Vile Vial
by ProcurerFaith
Summary: Mikey finds something of interest in the sewers and brings it home, only to unleash a potential armaggeddon on the Turtles. Leo and Raph find themselves embroiled in a race against time - can they help Mikey and Don before they're lost to them forever?
1. Chapter 1

_**Vile Vial**_

_**Disclaimer: **__**TMNT was created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. TMNT belongs to Mirage Studios. I am not making any money from this fic.**_

_Edit: I've fixed that annoying scene change problem, so hopefully it won't be such a wrench on the old grey cells to tell what's happening. Thanks to Nekotsuki for the advice! :) Also what I should have said before was a big thank you to Miss Kay for beta-ing this monster_

_Hi guys! :) Sorry about the notes again, but I want to make a quick comment about this fic. It'll be a pretty long fic, but it _is _finished – so in theory you're guaranteed to get the end :)_

_Also, beginning in this chapter and carrying on from there, is a little anomaly I'd like to explain. In the 2003 TV show (upon which this fic is based), the signals are very mixed as to whether or not the boys are cold-blooded. In 'Tales of Leo' they're all wrapped in blankets in the truck, and Mikey (I think) makes a comment about being cold-blooded. However, in 'Adventures in Turtle-Sitting', Don has a fever and in 'Return to the Underground' he can be seen sweating. Cold-blooded creatures can't sweat, because that's a function only warm-blooded creatures have, as it involves regulating their own body temperature._

_So, being the ornary creature I am, I've decided to use an amalgam of warm and cold blooded in this fic. Sorry ; I'm employing a little creative license:)_

_Anyway, I'll stop talking now and let you get on with what you're really here for:) Please, enjoy! _

* * *

**_Vile Vial_**

Various shades of grey sped past Mikey as he skateboarded quickly down the sewer tunnel. He heard the vacuum of air in the tunnels to his left and right as he passed them, and high on the exhilaration, he called,

"Waaaa_hoooooo_!!"

His attention taken by the excitement of the ride, he didn't notice that the floor of the tunnel ahead of him had been damaged. Peaks of smashed grey concrete stabbed up viciously in the path ahead of him, and he saw them too late as his skateboard skittered and juddered and then simply came to a stop in the middle of the concrete debris, sending the turtle careening forwards through empty space.

Mikey's 'wahoo' quickly turned into a 'waaaagh' as he flew through the air. He attempted to straighten himself and then saw a wall coming at him all too quickly. Throwing himself backwards, he tucked in his head and his arms and let his shell protect him as he crash landed with a harsh, loud scraping sound and a distinct

"Ooof!"

Mikey waited for the world to stop moving and carefully got to his feet, dusting himself off and craning his neck to inspect his shell.

"Aww, _man_…" he said disappointedly as he examined some relatively deep new scratches.

"It takes forever for those things to heal over." He grumbled, turning to walk back towards the broken concrete. He glanced down just before he put his foot on a pile of sharp-looking glass shards and a disembodied rubber stopper.

"Whoah!" Mikey exclaimed, hovering on one foot for a moment. He noticed a glass vial to the left of the pile of shards - and this time it was complete, with the rubber stopper rammed tightly into its neck. Mikey looked between the glass fragments and the vial and said to himself,

"I wonder if I…?"

He glanced down at the floor and at the transparent, slightly red tinged patch of liquid that had pooled beneath the fragments of glass. Then he looked at his own legs.

"Eeeeeewwwww…!" he exclaimed, as he noticed the tint of red on his left leg.

"That's gross…" he exclaimed, trying to rub the liquid off his leg. It was thin but slippery, and became slightly tacky as he rubbed it between finger and thumb. He leaned slightly further down and picked up the still whole vial. He muttered to himself,

"I'd better take this home to Donny. _He'll_ know what it is."

* * *

"Where did you find this, Mikey?" Don asked, holding the vial carefully in his fingers. A worried scowl crossed his face.

"It was out in the viaduct by 34th and Main. I was in the middle of this totally tubular ride! Originally, there were two of them but…" Mikey began, but he quickly trailed off, skirting around what Don instinctively knew was a bigger issue.

"You didn't open the other one, did you? Where is it?"

"I didn't exactly _open _it… But I did kind of _break_ it…"

Don's head hit the table in front of him – hard.

"Tell me you're kidding…?"

"Well, I _could_… but I'd be lying and you know what Master Splinter says about telling the truth…"

Don looked up at his brother with a look of concern etched on his face.

"Have you showered the stuff off?"

"Yeah – I didn't want _that _on me. And, you know, we live in a sewer, so I think I know what kind of stuff I need to wash off straight away." Mikey screwed his nose up and made to take the vial from Don's hand. Don instinctively closed his fist on the vial and tugged it out of Mikey's reach.

"And how do you feel?" he asked, ignoring his brother's pout.

"I'm _good_! I could go ten rounds with Raph right now!" Mikey instantly withdrew his nunchakus, swinging them with skill - and took out a small pet project in Don's lab.

"Mikey! Go and entertain yourself, will you?! Look, there are 'Stargate SG-1' reruns on the Sci-Fi channel all day. Go on and..._shoo!_" Don exclaimed, exasperated. Mikey cringed and wandered off towards the TV bank and the sofa, where the Sci-Fi channel was coaxing him forward.

Don sighed, opening a drawer and digging out a vial holder. He carefully placed the offending object into the holder and looked at the calendar on his PC. Raph and Leo had been gone now for seven days.

It was odd in the lair without them. They'd gone to the farm for some 'unification' training, as Master Splinter had called it. Their normally fractious relationship had worsened in the last few months, and Splinter had decided that it was time it stopped.

Don slipped into a different coat with every brother, so he never needed 'left hand and right hand' training. He glanced across to where Mikey sat, glued to the TV screen and with a newly acquired pack of chips in his hand.

Don felt his worried frown return.

Vials with bizarre contents had always been an indicator for change in the world of the turtles and their master. He looked across at the vial in its new home and sighed.

He could only hope that this time it was different.

* * *

"Raph! Stop!" Leo cried, throwing his brother off him. He looked at the nick on his arm irritatedly. Breathing heavily, he sheathed his twin katana.

"That's enough for now – before you take my arm off."

"If I can take your arm off, doesn't that mean we need more practice?" Raph asked, flicking his right-hand sai irritatedly.

Leo levelled his eyes at his brother.

"Feeling bloodthirsty today, Raph? If I didn't hope I knew better, I'd say you were trying to kill me."

"If I was trying to kill you, you'd already be dead," Raph said, sheathing only one sai.

"Oh Raph," Leo said disgustedly, "you stopped scaring me a long time ago. You're just a bigger bully now than you were back then." Raph snorted.

"Think our training's working?"

"For our family's sake, it had _better_ work." Leo said – still somehow reluctant to turn his back on his brother. Raph paused and nodded. Leo turned his eyes away from the hot glare of his brother.

_If Raph and I can't get it together, we risk losing everything. I don't know when our relationship got so bad – how we got so out-of-tune._

_Like all things that change; slowly, I guess._

_For Don and Mikey's sake, we have to get our mojo back. Without it, we're at serious risk of letting them down. _

"Shall we go again?" Leo said, withdrawing his katana once more. Raph smiled.

"_That's_ what I wanted to hear."

* * *

Don yawned. He was tired, but he had to find out what was in the vial – preferably sooner rather than later. He knew here was no point in putting a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on his door – of all the brothers, Mikey was the one who never paid attention to that request.

"Mikey? You still up?" he called from the subway carriage. After a few moments, Mikey appeared at his door. He looked miserable, and slightly paler than usual.

"What – the reruns are over?" Don smiled, looking back at the papers strewn across his desk. Mikey shook his head.

"I don't feel so good."

Don's heart sank as he immediately looked up.

"What kind of 'don't feel so good,' Mikey?"

"The kind of 'don't feel so good' that means you barfed all over the sofa." Mikey said miserably. Don squeezed his eyes shut.

"Okay, well… I _did_ ask." He put his pencil down, stood and placed the back of his hand on Mikey's forehead.

"You _are _hot. Show me your tongue," Don asked. Mikey instantly opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. Don pulled a face and said,

"I've _got_ to stop asking for things I might actually get."

Mikey shivered, and Don turned him around, pointing him towards the door.

"Go to bed. Sleep on the floor - and take a bucket. I'll be in to see you in a minute."

Don watched Mikey go, worry etched into his face.

This was not good.

And it was the kind of not-good that Don immediately associated with the vial. He looked at it, disturbed.

_I've only managed to part-run tests on the contents. Already I don't like what I've found. And if Mikey's sick, that's either some kind of crazy coincidence, or... _

_I'm a scientist; I don't like coincidence. _

Keeping his promise to his sick brother, Don traipsed off to the linen chest to get Mikey several extra blankets, to use for making him a nest on the floor. He walked with them down the corridor and dumped them on the floor outside Mikey's room. He then walked out to the kitchen and picked up a bowl, filling it full of water,and then grabbed a facecloth from the bathroom.

He peeped around the door to his sensei's room to see if he was still awake, but his father's breathing was deep and rhythmic – he was asleep, and Don didn't have the heart to wake him.

He walked into Mikey's room, finding him on the floor, huddled in blankets, snuggling a teddy bear Don hadn't seen for years.

"I didn't know you still had Rufus." Don grinned, putting down the bowl of water and dragging in the blankets he'd left outside. Mikey opened one bleary eye.

"I couldn't get rid of Rufus. Rufus is my buddy through thick and thin, dude. He's like a soft, cuddly version of Raph," He mumbled.

"Well… Raph sure doesn't do soft _or_ cuddly." Don raised an eyebrow and sat down beside his brother.

"So, apart from not good, how else do you feel?" Don asked, feeling Mikey's brow and finding him warmer than before, despite the fact that he seemed to have an oncoming case of the shivers.

"Just…not good…" Mikey mumbled, closing his eyes and tugging the covers more tightly around himself.

"How about you try to be a bit more specific for the nice scientist, hmm?" Don asked, squeezing the facecloth in the bowl and placing the cooling fabric on his brother's forehead.

"My-my stomach feels like someone took it out, twisted it up and then put it back in… And m-my head feels like it's got one of Raph's metal bands playing in it. And they're stamping." Mikey's breath was hot on Don's hand as he withdrew the facecloth and soaked it again, putting it back afresh.

"And I feel as thought m-my heart is about to beat out of my ribcage…" Mikey said. Don tried to resist the worry that once again played havoc with his features, but he couldn't resist its call.

"Okay, so… that's pretty specific," He said, worry lilting his voice.

He turned his wrist upwards and flicked the support fabric away from his watch. He put a finger against the pulse at Mikey's throat. He counted the pulse he found for ten seconds, multiplied it by six – and sighed.

"Your pulse is fast," He said.

"I think…I think everything's going dark…" Mikey said, reaching out a hand in front of him. Don paled.

"This is it… This is the end, bro…" Mikey moaned.

"Mikey, you'd better be kidding…" Don forced.

"No, this… really is the end… Tell Raph and Leo…"

"_Mikey_…"

"Tell Raph and Leo…"

"Mikey, I'm going to smack you if you're playing me," Don warned, his heart beating like a drum in his chest. Mikey's hand fell.

"You're such a spoilsport." Mikey groaned, pushing his face into the pillow before him. Don gave him a light whack on the arm – a warning not to play that card with him again. It was, as it always was with Mikey, the wildcard.

"Don't do that to me, Mikey. What good am I to you if I'm a gibbering wreck?" Don reclaimed the towel and soaked it again.

"My head really hurts… And my neck…" Mikey said into the pillow.

"Your neck hurts?" Don's worry peaked again. He made to turn Mikey's face towards him again, when his brother lifted his face out of the pillow voluntarily.

For a moment, they both stared.

As they stared, the red patch on the pillow was joined by gentle spats of scarlet. They slowly surrounded it - once, twice, three times – the sound of the droplets hitting the pillow the only sound in the room.

Donny cursed quietly and pressed the facecloth against Mikey's nose.

"Okay, I wasn't panicking before, but I am now…" Mikey said weakly, trying to get to a sitting position.

"Sit still, Mikey," Don instructed, the facecloth in his hand still pressed to his brother's face.

"When this stops, I'm going to get Master Splinter."

_He needs to know what's going on now, _Don thought to himself. _I can't keep this to myself._

Leo lay on his back in the barn. He could hear the sounds of the forest around him – somehow comforting after the day he'd had with Raph. He'd managed to get on every last one of his nerves and it had been all he could manage not to lose his _own_ temper.

He felt strangely alone. Despite the life of the forest all around him, there was something missing. He knew Raph was in the house - one of the bedroom lights was on, which meant that Raph was probably still whacking seven bells out of a practice dummy. If not, he may have been listening to music on the mp3 player Don had knocked up for them to share before they went away.

"At least you'll have to keep talking to each other if you want to listen to your music," he'd said before they left.

Ah. Suddenly it hit him.

_I'm homesick._

_After a week? Damn. Raph and I must be getting along really badly if I'm feeling sick for Don and Mikey after only a week. _

_And Master Splinter._

_He sent us out here to improve our interpersonal relationship – probably more so than our skills. But so far we've come up with a big fat zero._

He turned in his hay bed.

_But I can't go back empty-handed. I can't go back without improvement._

_I'm just going to have to try harder._

He fidgeted again, turning once more onto his back.

_I suppose Mikey's driving poor Don crazy. He had some big project he wanted to work on – Mikey probably keeps asking him to reset his Rubik's Cube._

_I suppose if I'm going to improve my temper and extend my patience, I should probably go to bed. _

Leo jumped out of the hay and landed on his feet, drawing his weapons simultaneously.

_Ah, Leo. You still got it. _

Sheathing them again, he drifted back towards the house, shutting the barn doors tightly behind him.

* * *

"My son…" Donatello woke to his father's gentle prodding. He rubbed his eyes and immediately cast them to Mikey. The turtle was pale, and a sheen of sweat covered his brow. His teeth were clenched, and every so often, he would chew at his cheek.

"How is he, Master?"

"He is…not well, Donatello. Not at all."

Donatello had drifted to sleep at his brother's side. At first, Splinter had accommodated this – but the truth was, Donatello was getting in the way and was in need of sleep himself.

"Donatello – go to your own bed. I will take care of your brother."

"But – Master, I – "

"Do as you are told, my son. I will take care of Michelangelo." Splinter's voice was firm, and Donatello knew that he must stand and leave the room.

But go to bed?

Perhaps he could get out of that.

He looked again at Mikey and the look of consternation on his face. He tucked Rufus back under his brother's arm – with Mikey's twisting and turning, he had become dislodged. Don's hand lingered for a moment and then he stood, immediately regretting the requirement to turn his back on his brother.

In the early hours of morning, Donatello sat back and looked at the printout of a graph. It disturbed him greatly.

An unsettling feeling had slowly groped at him for the past two hours, touching him in unprotected areas, tainting the very air he breathed, the sanctity of his chest. He didn't like it, and he didn't like where his discovery was heading.

He stifled a yawn and reached out for the vial which he now knew for sure was the source of his brother's current state.

He should have done as Splinter had said. He should have gone to bed. He should not have been in his lab so late, or so tired.

Instead of taking hold of the vial, he knocked it. Immediately fully awake and with a heart beating hard with panic, he reached for the vial before it hit the counter – and missed.

The fragile glass vial shattered as it hit the desk, sending its contents everywhere.

Donatello immediately felt sick as he instantly reached for tissues and paper – anything to cover the area, already knowing that whatever was in the vial, he'd been exposed to it - that whatever had stolen away with Mikey's laugh now had him in its sights.

He immediately went to the bathroom and snatched up a nailbrush, taking the antibacterial soap on the side and scrubbing it across his hands, across his arms, knowing already that it was too late, knowing that antibacterial soap would be no use against a virus, but still, through his panic, aware that he had to control this outbreak in their home if he possibly could.

He rinsed his hands and arms, once again soaping them up and scrubbing, repeating it at least twice more, until the skin on his hands and arms was red and raw and, in some places, simply gone and exposing flesh.

_There's nothing else I can do._

_I've done all I can._

_I've done all I can – to me, at least._

Master Splinter looked up from his ailing son and sniffed the air. His heightened senses smelled something acrid and dangerous, something heavy and dark.

_Smoke!_

"Donatello!" he snapped, leaping up and racing out to the living area to find the room filled with smoke and the yellow light of fire. His ears fell flat against his head.

"It's controlled, Master. I damped down everything around it. Took everything away that would burn." Donatello's voice was merely a husk as he approached his father.

"My son – what have you done?!" Splinter exclaimed angrily. Donatello's eyes fell to his burning lab.

"Stopped it spreading any further."

Even as he spoke, the flames slowed on their destructive path, finding metal where they wanted to find paper and wood and cloth.

"It won't burn for long. The vents are open. Soon…it'll all be gone." Donatello's voice was still blank. Splinter suddenly took hold of his son's wrist, his grip hard. He glanced down, seeing the red flesh amidst hot, raw, olive green skin.

"You were exposed…"

"No. First I was stupid – _then_ I was exposed."

Splinter was silent.

"Raph and Leo… They can't come home," Donatello said hoarsely. "We must quarantine this area, Master. We can't let them in."

"My son – "

"I'll tell them. It's… I'll do it."

Donatello took a fire extinguisher to the smouldering remains of his beloved lab. There was some little comfort to be found in his wireless network. The server itself was in his bedroom; the lab was only an annexe. All his computer-based work would remain – including the work he had done on the virus. His physical work-in-progress would all be gone, but at least he'd be able to hit the ground running when he started work again.

If he didn't simply just hit the ground.

"How's Mikey?" Don asked. His father simply looked away.

"I'd probably have been exposed anyway. I don't have access to any biohazard gear or…stuff…" the turtle said, his composure merely a layer as thin as his skin.

"It's absorbed through skin. Once it's in, it works by locating an enzyme available only to reptiles. You'll be safe, Master."

"_Safe_… Donatello, when something comes into my home and attacks my children, I cannot consider myself _safe_…" Master Splinter said, his hands heavy on his stick.

"Sensei, we need to get word to Leatherhead. He's a reptile, too – Mikey found the two vials in the sewer; that means he's also at risk."

"We will get word to him, Donatello. I will go to him myself." The old rat put a hand on his son's forearm and only then noticed how far up his arms the thinness of skin stretched. He rubbed his abraded arm gently.

"Do not worry yourself, my son. You have enough to worry about already."

* * *

Leo poked at a piece of toast disconsolately. Something was decidedly wrong with the feeling of the morning – something he couldn't lay a finger on but that disturbed him nonetheless. He was up early but even so, Raph had been up first, and Leo could hear him practicing on a padded stake even as he picked up his toast.

With the toast halfway to his mouth, he heard his Shell Cell ring. Don had recently enabled them to play mp3 ring tones, and he was greeted by the opening strains of 'Lament' by Deep Forest.

"Turn off that tree-hugger crud, Leo, I'm trying to practice here!" came Raph's gruff voice from the other room. Leo made an exasperated face and answered his Shell Cell.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Leo. It's Don."

It was somewhat a relief to hear a friendly voice – but its nervousness wasn't lost on the oldest brother.

"Hey, Don. Wasn't expecting to hear from you.

"Did you not go to bed again last night?"

There was an awkward pause.

"Well, you know, I kinda didn't…

"How's the training going?" Don asked, detracting from Leo's question.

"If we pretend you didn't ask, I don't have to lie to you," Leo replied, glancing into the other room.

"Oh. Like that, huh?" Don replied, his voice distant.

"Is everything okay, Don? You sound a bit…spaced."

There was a sigh. Leo waited patiently.

"No. Not really.

"You guys… You can't come home."

Leo had been standing in the doorway between the two rooms, toast in hand. He paused, and indicated for Raph to pay attention.

"What do you mean, Don?" Leo's chest tightened suddenly.

"I mean you can't come home right now. I know you're not finished training, and I'm sorry, but… there's some things that couldn't…maybe _can't _wait.

"It's a long story, and I'm not making any sense…"

"Wait a sec, bro. I'm going to put you on speakerphone so that Raph can hear," Leo answered, pulling the Shell Cell away from his ear and pressing the speakerphone button. Raphael stopped what he was doing, but didn't approach.

Donatello relayed as much of the story as he dared, including the destruction of his lab. Leo and Raph's expressions mirrored each other as they glanced at one another over the Shell Cell.

"So how's Mikey now?" asked Raph, the worried frown seared onto his forehead as he approached.

"He's…not good."

"And you?" Leo asked.

"I'm…okay for now. I haven't started showing symptoms yet."

"So you might not have contracted it?" Leo asked, trying to get an exact picture in his mind.

"It…seems unlikely."

"Rate it as a percentage for me, bro."

"98."

"Likely that you have or likely that you haven't?"

There was another pause.

"Likely that I have."

"I don't like those odds," Leosaid gravely. Don laughed nervously.

"You know what? Me either."

"Donny – are you a complete numbskull?" Raph asked – angry that his brother had made the foolish mistake of exposing himself prematurely to a strange and, by all current accounts, dire virus. Don laughed again, still with an edge of nervousness.

"Yeah, apparently. I thought I was smarter than that – but maybe I'm stupid after all."

"It's not about how stupid you may or may not have been, Don. It's about what we can do about it now.

"What do you need us to do?" Leo asked, determined not to let Raph bully Don into an even more fragile state – it didn't take a mastermind to figure out that their brother was already anxious and scared.

"First of all you need to stay away. It makes no sense to expose you two as well as me and Mikey. Second, I need you to go to April. She's safe; like Master Splinter, she can't contract this so she can actually come down to us. I don't have an example of the virus anymore, so I can't do any more research on it. Tell her to bring some hypodermic syringes. I'll e-mail her what I managed to learn – maybe she'll be able to find out more. She can do bloodwork from home if she takes some of my equipment.

"She's not a complete nerd like me – so she doesn't have any of that stuff.

"Tell her she can e-mail or IM me – I've got the network up all the time anyway.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You'd better not be, bro." Leo's words were heartfelt.

"Yeah – when you finally let us come home, we want a full contingent." Raph said. Leo gave him a brief smile.

His hand was tight against the Shell Cell. The gravity of the situation was finally sinking in.

"So… That's it for now. I'm sorry it's not…you know… better news."

"What's done is done, Don. Let us know if there's anything else you need.

"We'll do whatever it takes."

"I know. I'll call soon."

"Good."

There was reluctance on both sides of the conversation – neither wanted to end the call.

"Well… I'll speak to you soon."

There was an unspoken 'I hope' tagged onto the end of Don's sentence.

"Stay safe, Don. Tell Mikey… Tell Mikey not to be too much trouble – and that we're thinking of him."

"Sure."

The line went dead.

Apparently, goodbye had been too poignant a word for Donatello. Whatever he had found in the tests he'd run on the vial had disturbed him to the core.

Leo looked up at Raph.

"I think-"

"We're going back to New York," Raph finished for him. Leo nodded.

"Give me that. I'll raise our ride." Raph indicated for Leo's Shell Cell.

Casey was going to get a rude awakening that morning.

* * *

Don sat beside his brother. Mikey's eyes wore dark circles and he was only barely holding onto his consciousness. His grip on Rufus however was as strong as always.

Don dampened his brother's lips with a clean cloth. He squeezed it gently, allowing a few drops of water to fall into Mikey's mouth.

_I've got to figure out a better way to keep you hydrated._ Don thought to himself worriedly. He put the clean cloth back into the cup of water to his right, and picked up the refreshed bowl of fever water next to it, complete with clean face cloth.

Mikey opened his eyes and gazed at Don.

"Don…?"

"Yeah. It's me, Mikey."

"Am I sick?"

"Yeah." Donatello's sigh was sad.

"I thought so. I don't feel so good," Mikey said, blinking a few times.

"I know. I'm working on it. I'm working on how to make you better." Don carefully squeezed out the cloth in the bowl and wiped Mikey's face gently.

"Don?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't see properly."

Don put the bowl down. Through sheer effort, he kept the worry out of his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"I think I've… got something in my eye…" Mikey's hand reached up shakily, but it didn't get to its target before Don removed his brother's mask carefully.

He didn't like what he saw.

"Yeah… Y-you _have_ got something in it…" Don said, his face pale. He lifted the cloth from the bowl and squeezed it, immediately pressing it into the tear ducts in both of Mikey's eyes. He hid what he found in his hand when he lifted the towel away; he didn't want Mikey to know he was crying bloody tears.

_Haemorrhagic fever… Oh, that's just _great_… _Donatello's heart skipped a beat.

_Today just keeps getting worse and worse and worse. _

He moved forward with the cloth again as Mikey's nose followed suit. He turned his brother onto his side so that he didn't have to swallow the blood and kept the cloth pressed against his nose.

"I'm making a mess again…" Mikey said, his voice cracked and muffled.

"It's all right." Don smiled gently. "Don't worry about it."

Mikey coughed and said,

"I'm thirsty."

"Why don't you sit up? I'll give you some water."

"I don't think I can sit up on my own."

"It's all right; I'll help you. What are brothers for?"

"Seems like it's for bleeding all over," remarked Mikey. Against his better judgement, Don laughed.

"Then it must be my lucky day."

Don swallowed hard against the sickness in his stomach. He couldn't show Mikey that he was starting to share symptoms with him. For Mikey he had to be strong, he had to hold up – no matter what happened. He could be their only lifeline.

Helping Mikey to a sitting position, he took the drinking water glass and removed the thin cloth. He encouraged Mikey to drink carefully, aware that it was a while since he'd actually taken any liquid. Mikey coughed, and Don was patient with him as his body wracked.

It was then that Master Splinter entered the room. He indicated to Donatello that he would take over as the gentle turtle helped his brother back under the blankets that protected him from the rest of the world. Donatello nodded to his father, without meeting his eye.

His own pallor might have evaded the notice of his bedridden brother, but it did not evade the notice of his teacher and father. Neither of them spoke as their eyes finally met. Donatello looked away quickly, unable to look his father in the eye for long.

"I'll be back to see you in a minute, Mikey. Master Splinter's got your back for now, okay?"

He smiled weakly as he stood and walked towards the door. As he approached his father, Splinter's hand snapped out and caught his wrist. His eyes were beseeching.

'Do you have an answer?' was the unspoken question in his eyes, on his lips. Donatello shook his head and gently pulled free of his father's grip.

"I have to go…do some more research," Donatello said quietly as he left the room.

Splinter watched him go with a heavy heart.

As soon as Donatello was outside, he headed unsteadily for the bathroom. It was going to be a long, long day.

If he was lucky, it would be a long _few_ days.

_**End of Part One**_

* * *

_Thank you for reading this far. Part two will be up in about a week!:)_


	2. Chapter 2

_**

* * *

**_

Vile Vial

_Chapter Two_

_**Disclaimer: **__**TMNT was created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. TMNT belongs to Mirage Studios. I am not making any money from this fic.**_

_Hi guys! Okay, so here's chapter two, as promised:) Thank you all for reading so far!_

_Just so you know, I generally don't use Japanese words unless they're appropriate or there is no English equivalent, but if I do then they'll be listed at the beginning of the chapter. There's only one in this chapter and it's listed below. _

_Please, enjoy!:)_

_**Glossary**_

_Tsuka – katana hilt/handle _

* * *

_Chapter Two_

"Hey guys – what's up?" April said as she heard the back door to the shop open. She stood and walked to the front doors immediately, locking them tightly – it wouldn't do to have someone walk in on a discussion between her and the turtles. She turned to see Leo and Raph standing in the doorway. There was a strangeness between them, a lack of contact that she had seen only a few times before – and none of those times had been good.

"Have you two been fighting again?" she asked, sagging. Leo shook his head.

"That's not why we're here, April. We need your help."

Leo explained the sorry story as he had heard it from Don. April indicated that they should go upstairs half-way through it, so Leo finished the tale in April's front room, cross-legged on the floor.

"Poor Mikey… and poor Don!" April exclaimed as Leo finished. Raph was standing at the window, watching the late morning traffic.

"So…we need your help to find out what the virus is – and how we can treat it," Leo said. April looked concerned.

"Didn't Don tell you?"

"Tell us what?"

"There are very few cures for viruses. They're normally something that you treat the symptoms for – and just hope that the body creates enough antibodies to fight it."

There was silence as both Raph and Leo took this information in.

"No. He didn't tell us that," Leo said eventually. April and Leo swung round immediately as Raph smashed a fist into the wall by the window.

"Dammit, Donny! We can't help you if you don't tell us the whole story!" he growled, lowering his fist as small blocks of cracked plaster dropped to the floor.

"Raph! Beating up April's newly-finished apartment isn't going to help!" Leo chastised. Raph turned on his heel and stomped across the room to where his brother sat.

"Help? How can we help them when there's no cure?!"

"Don't you trust Don to come up with something? When has he ever let us down before?" Leo asked, a scowl on his face. Raph snorted.

"Not before today."

"He didn't let _us _down. He let _himself_ down," Leo said. "He needs our support now more than ever, Raph. Would you take that support from him now – and from Mikey – just when they need it the most?

"I mean – it's not like you've never made a stupid mistake, right?"

Raph didn't reply. Words were sitting on the edge of his tongue, clearly ready to pour out at any second, but he managed to restrain them. For a moment, the brothers locked eyes as they would limbs – fighting each other on an emotional level. Raph was the first to break. In his irritation, he knocked over a vase on his way out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"I'm sorry, April," Leo said, watching the space where his brother had been. "He's just worried."

"Yeah, well… I'd appreciate it if he didn't break everything in the house while he's worrying," April said, looking forlornly at the broken vase and the associated wet patch on the carpet.

There was a pause as April glanced at Leo. His guard was down. His face was a picture of concern.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked. Leo was brought back from the brink immediately.

"Don wanted you to IM him. He said he's got some files he wants you to see. He also needs you to go down to the lair and take some hypodermic syringes and pick up some of his equipment."

"Sure." April stood and made her way out to the bedroom. "I'll log in now. You want to come? You may not be able to go home to your family – but there's no reason why you can't _see_ them."

Leo looked confused for a moment, and then stood.

"Webcams," April provided. Leo's expression cleared immediately.

"Of course! I'm such an idiot; I didn't think of that." He smacked his fist into his palm. April smiled.

It took a minute or so for April to boot up her PC and log into her IM programme. She enabled her webcam and buzzed Don.

They waited patiently.

It took a few minutes for Don to get to the PC. He was tired, and his body was starting to ache. On top of that, he had a headache the size of Brisbane. He checked the time on the PC and sighed.

He'd worked out that his infection was approximately fourteen hours after Mikey's. He'd been exposed more than seven hours previously – and the symptoms were starting to settle in with a vengeance.

_Bang on time,_ thought Don to himself grimly.

'Hey Don. Leo's here – he's told me everything. How's Mikey?' was the message that awaited him when he got there. There was a pop-up message indicating that April's webcam had been enabled. He clicked 'okay' and entered the password to view it. In an instant, an image of Leo and April appeared on his screen. He smiled wistfully.

'Mikey's not so good. He's being pretty quiet – you know how rare that is for Mikey :(' Don replied. There was a pause as a discussion happened without him at April's end. He already knew what Leo was asking, and his hand directed the mouse to hover over the 'Enable webcam?' button.

'Leo says 'Put the webcam on, bro '

Don sighed, the cough which immediately followed it taking him by surprise. Taking a breath, he clicked the button and typed in the 16 digit passcode that would allow the webcam to broadcast.

He had to be that much more careful with his webcam than your average joe. The last thing the turtles needed was their webcam broadcasting without permission. Don had created the IM software and wasn't about to let just anyone sign into the camera.

April sat back as the image of Don appeared on her screen. A worried expression slowly crept across her face.

"Sorry about the colours. Please do not adjust your sets," Don said, awkwardly. "I'm afraid they're actually a pretty good representation right now."

"I guess the odds won, huh, Don?" Leo said disappointedly. Don nodded.

"How's Mikey?"

"Master Splinter's looking after him. He's holding his own, but… I don't like it. I don't like it at all.

"I've been thinking about the virus some more and doing more research with the data I have - but it doesn't look like anything I've seen before, or anything else I could get hold of details for. I'm… blind, I don't know what this is.

"I'm not convinced it's a normal virus. It's…some sort of filovirus - but I don't get exactly how it works on the body, or why – only how it chooses who to infect."

"How bad do you think it is?"

There was an extended pause. Don looked away.

"I think it has the potential to be as bad as bad can be."

"You mean…?"

"I mean…that if we can't lift the symptoms – if Mikey and I can't work up the antibodies to fight the virus…

"Then we might-"

"It won't come to that," Leonardo interrupted, not willing to accept _that_ as an answer – not now and not ever.

Again, there was a pause. April looked away, unable to look at Don's face without noticing the sleeplessness in his eyes or the beads of sweat on his brow.

"If you were going to take a guess, Don, where do you think it came from?" Leo asked. Don's face darkened.

"There's only one guy I can think of that would have his fingers in _this_ pie," He replied.

"Bishop," The brothers said in unison. Leo's expression blackened.

"What do you need us to do, Don?"

"I don't know yet. I'm…not sure…

"Give me a minute."

Don rubbed his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut.

April and Leo glanced at each other. Leo looked back at the screen, and April could feel his will to be by his brother even from her seat. His hand tightened on the back of April's chair and out of sight of the camera, his left hand twitched.

"Don. You okay?" Leo asked gently. Don just shook his head.

Tactfully, April stood and offered Leo the seat. He looked perplexed as she left the room. She smiled and said, simply,

"Come get me when you've talked some more."

She didn't wait for a reply. Walking out to the front room, she sighed, and knelt down to pick up the broken shards of china that once comprised her second favourite vase.

She didn't hear his approach; he wouldn't have been worth his salt as a ninja if she had. She jumped as Raph crouched down beside her and helped her to pick up the pieces.

"Sorry," He said softly. April just smiled weakly as her response.

"Leo's talking to Don in the other room," She said. There was no response; Raph simply continued to help her pick up the shattered vase. She took the pieces from him and looked into his face, trying to read his expression, but his face was dark and ciphered.

"Don thinks it's connected to Bishop somehow," April offered as she walked out to the kitchen to wrap the broken vase in newspaper before throwing it away.

"Oh, Raph – don't-" April said as she put her head around the door. But once again, Raphael was nowhere to be seen.

"…don't break anything, will you?" she finished. A thought suddenly occurred to her and she slapped her forehead.

"Ut-oh, April. You and your big mouth," She said angrily to herself and made her way quickly to the bedroom.

Leo had just signed off from his conversation with Don.

"Don's given me a list of places you can get this stuff. He says he needs it as soon as. He needs Raph and I to go to Bishop's new base at the Pentagon and get access to the contents of his hard-drives. He's not in a position to hack into it right now – I mean, this is the Pentagon. If he can get the contents he can at least figure out what we're dealing with," Leo said as he made a last inscription on the paper.

"Leo, I think I upset Raph."

"Well, that's not hard lately." Leo didn't look up.

"No, he came back. He was helping me with the vase and I told him about Bishop. I turned my back on him for one minute – and he was gone."

"_Raph_," Leo growled, slamming down the pen.

"You don't think he's gone after Bishop on his own, do you?" April asked, worried.

"That's_ exactly _where I think he's gone," Leo said, getting out of the chair quickly and pressing the list of items and places into April's hand. She looked at him as he edged towards the window and slipped out, and within moments was gone.

"Going out in the daylight without a disguise," April said to herself.

_Now I _know_ they're worried._

She looked at the list in her hand and sighed.

* * *

"Donatello!" Don raised his head immediately at the cry of his name. He got to his feet and stumbled out of his room towards the sound of his father's voice – and something else. His heart sank.

Mikey was screaming.

Increasing his pace to a run, he sped towards the source of the noise and burst into Mikey's room.

"Sensei, what-?!" Don said, but immediately saw the problem.

Mikey was rolling around in the bed, screaming. Every inch of him was taut and stiff, and his eyes had rolled back in his head. Donatello threw himself down beside his brother and pressed a hand to his upper arm.

"He's boiling…!" Don exclaimed.

"My son! _My son_!" Splinter cried. Don snatched his Shell Cell from his belt and dialled a number. He immediately passed the phone to Master Splinter.

"Master Splinter, speak to Casey. Ask him to bring some ice down here, now! As much as he can carry!" Donatello threw the tangled bedclothes away from his brother and lifted him into the air, getting to his feet. He faltered, but gritted his teeth and quickly made his way to the bathroom.

He immediately lowered Mikey into the bath and turned on the cold tap. Michelangelo's voice cracked and the screaming abated, giving rise to whimpers instead.

"It's okay…It'll be okay, Mikey, it'll be okay… Shhhhhh…" Donatello said gently, filling his hands with water and tipping it over his brother's scorching body. He kept pouring water over his brother, as Mikey slowly regained some hold on his sobriety.

"Donny…?"

"I'm here. I'm here for you, Mikey," Don replied immediately, his blood still running cold due to the fear and panic of seeing his brother in such agony.

"Don…it's so _hot_ in here…" Michelangelo forced, his face coated in pain. Don stroked his face gently, pouring water across his forehead.

"I know… It's okay… We'll get you cool again…"

"This must be…what Hell is like…" Mikey said. Don just kept repeating the motions gently; pouring water across his brother's body as the bath filled with the cold fresh liquid and speaking soothingly to his brother to reassure him. When the bath was so full that water lapped over the white enamel edges, Don turned off the tap.

Master Splinter appeared at Donatello's elbow, immediately reaching out to his beleaguered son in the bath.

"He will be all right?" Splinter asked. Donatello didn't respond until his father tapped him on the arm. The question wasn't going to go away.

"I don't know. Master, I don't _know_!" Don exclaimed, immediately regretting raising his voice to his father, but frustrated that everybody expected him to know what to do, everybody wanted him to have the answers, to know _everything_, but the _truth_, the _truth _was that his head grew cloudier by the minute, that his thoughts became more muddled even as the seconds passed, that his head was pounding and he could feel his heartbeat and it was ringing in his ears.

Don rested his head on the edge of the bath for a moment, waiting for the ringing to stop. His heart was in his throat, his breath short, his movement restricted. He felt his father's hand on his head.

"I am too much. My son…"

"I'm sorry…Father…" Don forced. He lifted his head and put a shaking hand into the bathwater. Once again, as it was now a comfort to him as well as to his brother, he tipped the water over Mikey's shoulders.

"Casey will be here soon, Mikey. He's getting lots of ice to keep you cool."

"Ice?" Mikey mumbled. His consciousness was waning. His skin wasn't so hot to touch now – being cold blooded, he took on the temperature around him and so was slowly cooling. If he were removed from the bath his temperature would probably shoot up again. Don sighed and lifted his brother's face away from the water.

"I will keep his head above water, Donatello." Master Splinter put his hand on Don's as it rested on Mikey's face. "You must go and keep yours above water also." Donatello nodded and stood. As he left the bathroom, he made to go back to his room and his calculations – but stopped.

Instead, he headed back to Mikey's room.

As well as the customary smells of Mikey's room, which included old pizza boxes and unwashed sheets, the room smelled of illness. It smelled of blood and of sweat, damp sheets and the hard chemical edge of carbolic.

Don looked at the pile of sheets in front of him and picked up a small, bedraggled item.

He walked back to the bathroom and put the bear next to Master Splinter. The sensei looked surprised to see it.

"He might want Rufus when he comes around again," Don said. Once again, he found himself turning his back on his father and brother and as he approached the door to the bathroom he sniffed. His sight wavered slightly and he felt something hot and warm in his nose.

Knowing what it was and wanting to keep it out of sight of his sensei – who had his hands full looking after one son, never mind two – he hastened his step and put his hand to his face.

When he got outside, he propped himself up against the wall with one hand. He took the other hand away from his face to find proof of what he had suspected. His hand was covered with blood, and as he watched, more drips fell into his palm. He coughed – and coughed and coughed.

Stumbling into his room, he grabbed at a pile of towels he had left in there so that he didn't have to keep coming and going when seeing to Mikey. He pushed one at his face and sat down on the floor clumsily – waiting for the world to right itself and for the beating of war drums to stop in his head.

* * *

Leo had trailed Raph undetected from April's apartment. They were taking potentially immense risks – even taking to rooftops in broad daylight was a definite no-no in case they were seen. Raph, however, was not thinking of potential risks – rather the ones that were blatantly in his face. He wasn't much of a forward thinking turtle; he was reactive rather than proactive and that was what caused so much of the consternation between himself and Leo – the perpetual planner.

Leo had tracked him to a warehouse and watched as his brother peered through the skylight into the space below.

_What is he doing?_

Raph lifted his sai, his intention clear. He made to put out the roof windows with the handle of his sai when Leo made a decision.

_Time to stop this._

Raphael looked up, his attention caught by the sudden movement on the nearby rooftop, and was stunned to see Leo flying towards him, hands on his katana tsuka.

"What the-" was all Raph had time to say before Leo bowled into him, taking him off his feet. He rolled instinctively, on his feet again in an instant.

"You wanna dance, Leo? Is that what this is?" Raph snarled. Leo unsheathed both katana.

"No. I want to cure our brothers and get on with the training we so badly need! But y_ou_…You just want to make things harder! You _always _want to make things harder! When are you going to stop being such a hothead?!"

"I want to _make things harder_? I'm _trying_ to help them, instead of pussyfooting around!" Raph growled, crossing his sai.

"We can't go toe to toe with Bishop right now – our numbers are too few! We need Mikey's agility and Don's brains for that and you know it. We have to do this with stealth and _only _stealth – or we'll be bodies on his dissection table and then what good are we to anyone?"

"They're _dying_, Leo!" Raph snapped. "Stealth or no stealth, we have to get in there now! If we have to blow the whole stinking place to smithereens, then that's what we'll do!"

Raph's words stung Leo. Did he really think Don and Mikey would die?

"They're _not_ dying! We'll fix it before it comes to that!"

"And how do you propose to do that, _fearless leader_, if you won't get your hands dirty!"

"I just don't think that rushing in there, all guns blazing, is going to help! This is the Pentagon, Raph – they'll know we're coming hours before we get there. We have to do this properly. We have to. If it takes a little more time, then-"

"They don't _have_ that kind of time! I was there, I heard you talking to Donny about how bad it was – just because you didn't see me, it doesn't mean I wasn't there!

"Don't you _care_ that they might not make it if we don't save every damn second?"

Leo looked physically struck.

"How can you even ask that?" he said, his voice tight. "I'd do anything for them – for _you_. I just don't think-"

"Then _don't_ think! We're wasting time just standing here arguing about it!" Raph yelled, and turned to the skylight, smashing it through with a sai and jumping through the shattered frame. Leo rolled his eyes, sheathed his katana, and followed.

"Thought you were going for stealth?" Raph asked, after they had landed. Leo scowled.

"Yeah, because I can _so_ leave you on your own, Mr Portable-Nuclear-Reactor."

"I knew you'd see it my way eventually." Raph grinned.

As it happened, the warehouse was unguarded – a minor miracle in their favour. As they looked around, Raph said,

"I saw the Foot hanging around this place like ants at a picnic when I was training a couple of weeks ago. Thought they might have something in here we could use."

They gazed up at an all-black, unmarked RAH-66 Comanche stealth copter. Raph whistled.

"Don would have a conniption if he could see this," Leo said, hiding pain he didn't want Raph to see.

"Yeah, but can we get it started without Don?" Raph asked. Leo stopped as he approached the copter.

"That's a really good question."

_Damn, it's like we're crippled without him here. _

He opened the helicopter door and looked at the inner workings.

"Yeah, I think so. It looks a lot like Baxter's copter inside. And at least Mikey won't be piloting it."

"We need an 'out' hatch," Raph said. As one body they looked at the roof of the warehouse. It was somewhat rickety and aged – Leo had noticed this even during their fight a few minutes before.

"I'll make us a nice _new_ skylight," Raph said, finding a box full of hand grenades.

"Don't damage the copter, Raph."

"Yeah, yeah." Raph pooh-poohed his brother's concern. He pulled the pin on a grenade, counted to two and lobbed it through the hole in the skylight. Two seconds later and the brothers were hiding against the walls as the ceiling crashed in around them.

"What part of 'Don't damage the copter, Raph' did you not understand?" Leo asked coldly.

As the falling debris slowly stopped, Raph stepped out into the main body of the warehouse. He brushed some dust and splinters from the copter and patrolled it, looking for damage. Eventually, he said,

"It's fine, Leo."

Together they got into the helicopter and did some quick pre-flight checks.

"Looks like we're going to Virginia," Leo said, looking at Raph. His brother nodded. As soon as Leo started the copter, they could hear sirens.

"Yeah, and quickly!" Raph said. Leo wasted no time in getting them into the air.

They had been in the air for only a few minutes when Leo said,

"Raph, you're wrong."

"Yeah? What else am I wrong about?" Raph said, ready for another fight.

"Leader, maybe. Fearless – no." Leo sighed as he gave ground. "My fear – my only fear – is losing my family."

Raph was silent. Demanding that his surrender be acknowledged, Leo said,

"Raph?"

"I know," He said. He turned his head, so that he was looking directly out of the window to his right.

"Me too," He said eventually. Leo gave this some thought as he continued to pilot the copter.

"So then why are we still fighting?" he asked. Raph turned to look at him and shrugged.

"Because were both idiots? Because we lost sight of the bigger picture? Even you can do that sometimes – Fearsome Leader."

"_Fearsome_ leader, huh? I like that. You can use that one," Leo said, a smile gracing his features. Raphael grinned.

"Oh yeah? Does that mean I can't use 'bonehead' anymore?"

"Yeah, you could say that," Leo said, his frown returning.

They paused again, comfortable in each other's company for the first time in weeks. Eventually, Leo said,

"We will find a cure for Mikey and Don. We have to. We'll do whatever it takes. We won't fail. We _can't_."

"And if not, I swear to you now, Leo, I'll take Bishop apart. I'll dissect him and his entire team. I'll…" Raph's hands instinctively fell to his sai. Leo glanced down to see Raph's knuckles pale under the pressure.

"It won't come to that, Raph. We'll succeed. We _will._"

* * *

Don woke to find April sitting beside him. She was washing his face with a cloth in mimicry of what he had been doing with Mikey for hours on and off already. Dusk was settling in topside; it had taken April a while to gather all the things Don wanted.

Don sat up immediately, embarrassed, and found his head spinning.

"Don, sit still," April said. Don pulled away, his sometimes painful shyness taking control of his body despite of the state it was in. He noticed the blood in the bowl and the welted skin on April's hands. She'd obviously been there a while.

"M-mikey!" Don forced. April shushed him.

"He's okay. Master Splinter said there hasn't been a change in a while. He's still in the bath. Casey came with the ice; he's holding his own."

"How…how long have I been asleep?" Don asked. April looked at her watch and said,

"I'm not sure. You were delirious when I got here. Maybe two or three hours." Don looked at his own watch, but was unable to focus.

"I've lost…so much time…" he forced, trying to get to his feet. April tried to restrain him, but he still had the strength to overpower her. He looked down at where she knelt on the floor.

"You…you shouldn't have had to do that. I'm sorry." He indicated the bowl and the face cloth. Immediately he felt warmth in his nose again and his legs failed beneath him. He dropped to his knees hard and reached out for the cloth. He blinked, and his vision turned red. April gasped and leaned forward, but once again, Don pulled back.

"N-no… I can do it. Please…can you take a blood sample from Mikey and –"

"It's done, Don. I did it already. The computer's making further analysis now. I'll take a manual look as soon as it's done. Please let me-"  
"No." Don continued to hold his shaking hand out for the cloth. A bloody tear fell onto his outstretched arm.

April couldn't help but be disturbed by the bloody tears and Don's determined but pained face.

"Let me help, Don. Please…"

"You _are _helping, April. But…I need you to do what I _can't_. I n-need you to do the technical stuff, because… I can't. I'll…I'm worried I'll mess it up. For Mikey's sake, I c-can't do that.

"_This_ I can do." He dropped his arm, unable to hold it out any longer. Reluctantly, April pressed the cloth into his hand and lifted his hand to her cheek.

Suddenly, the tears didn't seem so bloody anymore.

"Can you… can you help me get to my desk, April?" Don asked, pressing the cloth into his eyes. He knew that his legs were too weak to carry him even that far without aid. April nodded and got to her feet. Don managed to get that far on his own, and April supported him as together they stumbled towards his desk and Don reached out for it. It was just a few feet away, but it seemed like miles to the sick turtle.

"I need a blood sample from you, too, Don," April said as she walked across the room to get a hypodermic syringe. Don sagged over the computer keyboard. April supported him gently as she returned.

"Between us, we can do this, Don. We can make Mikey better, and you. I'm sure Raph and Leo are on target for getting the hard drive data you asked them to. I gave them my back-up drive," She said, as she slid the needle beneath the skin in the crook of Don's arm.

"I know they'll get it…" Don nodded; his faith in his brothers was flawless.

* * *

"I thought you said _stealth_!" Raph said, bouncing over a guard and disarming his colleague, following up by banging their heads together.

"I _did_ – but _you_ had to go ahead and get pushy with the computers!" Leo yelled back, introducing his foot to the face of another guard.

They reversed carefully into the next room. It had a panic door, and Leo was more than happy to slam his hand into the red button on its left and send it crashing down before them.

"That should give us a little time," Leo said, turning.

The room was large and full of machinery that probably would have had Don on Cloud 9. However, the item that immediately caught his eye was the Plexiglas prison containing an old friend.

"Professor Honeycutt?!" Leo exclaimed. Raph turned immediately and was taken by the same surprise.

"Oh dear…" said the Professor. "Did you come all this way for me? How did you know?"

"Well, we didn't," said Leo, "but seeing as we're here and you're imprisoned, we'll get you out of here – you can tell us all about it later!"

Leo ran to the control panel and for a moment was overcome with confusion. The professor noticed the look on his face and explained to him how to open the prison door. Leo may not have been a technological whiz-kid like Donatello, but he was a fast learner.

A hole simply appeared in the prison and the Professor stumbled out of it. He put a hand to his metal head and said,

"Where are your two brothers?"

"Well… Actually, Professor, we could use _your_ help, too," Leo said. He quickly gave the Professor a condensed version of what had happened. The Fugitoid nodded earnestly.

"Of course I will help you! You have been marvellous friends to me – and it sounds as though the situation is very grave."

"It is," Agreed Leo, wincing at the use of the word 'grave' to describe it.

"I will download the required data to my own hard drive – it's vastly bigger than anything you have on Earth, I would think," Professor Honeycutt said, making his way quickly to the computer system and inserting his interface device into a USB port. Leo and Raph looked at each other triumphantly. They banged fists in a quiet victory celebration.

Maybe they could get this virus on the run after all.

It took a few minutes to download everything to the Professor's hard drive, and all the time they were under attack. The door was starting to make decidedly insecure noises, and they looked around desperately for a way out that didn't involve taking on the entire Pentagon. Raph kicked at a few air conditioning vents, and one showed itself to be loose.

"If we can get into the next room, we might be able to slip by them," Raph said, using a sai to wrench the vent away from the wall. Leo grabbed the professor and together they ran over to where Raph had just disappeared.

Out of the corner of his eye, Leo saw a laptop running a diagnostic on a small piece of equipment. He grabbed it instantly and, pushing the Professor ahead of him, crawled into the vent.

They were lucky that all the elite security must have been banging down the main door. Traipsing through the air conditioning system, they knew they were setting off alarms here, there and everywhere, but seeing as their presence was already known, their stealth actions had already been compromised.

They just had to be faster than the response units.

Raph looked through a vent to his right and found nothing more than a store room. They were two corridors over from the room they had found the Professor in. Raph kicked out the vent and the three leapt out of the gap into the room.

Leo and Raph stood either side of the door and on a silent count of three, Leo opened it a crack and looked out into the corridor. He could hear a rumpus further away, but couldn't see anything. To his right, he heard a clicking noise. He turned to the Professor, whose knees were knocking. He put a finger to his lips to silently shush him. The Professor put a hand over his electronic mouth – his human instincts still showing through – but his knees continued to knock.

Leo opened the door, taking the Professor and pushing him firmly in front of him – not so that he would take the brunt of any attack, but so that Leo knew where he was and was in a position to protect him if need be.

Professor Honeycutt was not only a good friend right now, but also the key to a cure for his ailing brothers. Raph stalked back to back with Leo, watching the corridor they were leaving behind as they headed towards the nearest available exit.

It happened to be a window.

"You think we can make it from the fifth floor of the Pentagon without being shot to pieces?" Raph asked, looking down.

"Are we Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?" Leo asked. Raph grinned, his eyes hardening.

"That's what I hoped you were going to say."

With five hard strikes – one in each corner and a massive strike in the centre – the double-glazed window glass dropped out, falling tens of feet to the ground below. The guards were immediately made aware of the upcoming attempt at escape and they readied their weapons. Leo and Raph took one look at each other and both nodded. Leo picked up the Fugitoid and slung him across his back and then, as one body, Raph and Leo leapt out of the window.

"Oh dear!" cried the Fugitoid, covering his eyes. Behind them, chunks of concrete were blown out of the wall by the fifth floor window as the guards below opened fire.

Only their aerobatic skills saved them. By bouncing on and away from the walls, using their innate sense of balance, Raphael and Leonardo literally hit the ground running. With Mother Luck on their side, they cut a swathe through the stunned soldiers and ran for all they were worth towards their copter, keeping to shelter when they could and making as big a diversion as they could when there was none.

"God-damn Bishop and his crazy aliens," One soldier could be heard to say as the Turtles left the Pentagon far behind them.

"I heard that," Bishop said as he appeared at the soldier's shoulder. He looked after the brothers and the Fugitoid as they ran, beyond the reach of the weapons currently at the disposal of the soldiers.

"What are your commands, sir?" a solider asked, giving Bishop an official looking salute. Bishop looked at him and said,

"Nothing. For now. In two days, I want a contingent to go to New York and pick up the Fugitoid.

"The Turtles will no longer be a problem at that time."

* * *

_End of Chapter Two:) Thank you for reading so far, and I'll have an update for you in just about a week!_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Vile Vial**_

_**Disclaimer: **__**TMNT was created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. TMNT belongs to Mirage Studios. I am not making any money from this fic.**_

_Author's Note: Wait, there aren't any author's notes in this chapter– except to say, please enjoy!:)_

* * *

Raph was first in the copter and immediately sat in the flight seat, starting the copter up with ease. He'd watched Leo carefully as he'd flown it, and although his flight time in Baxter's old copter was limited, he was very resourceful.

Leo put the Fugitoid down on his feet. His knees started knocking again, and he dropped to the floor.

"Oh dear." He said, uncertainly.

Leo looked at his arm and tutted. There was a deep, lacerated wound across his upper arm where a bullet had grazed him. Blood made its lazy way down his arm – it looked worse than it was, he decided and headed over to the First Aid kit in the copter.

"Leo! You okay?" Raph asked, as a glance exposed the sight of blood to him.

"Yeah, it's fine. Don't worry about it," Leo said, pulling out various items from the First Aid kit and throwing unsuitable items over his shoulder. He tore open a wound gauze with his teeth and wrapped it around his arm. It wasn't exactly the height of good First Aid, but it was the best he could do with the time and equipment he had.

The Professor stood up as Leo approached the co-pilot seat in the copter and sat, putting the laptop on his legs after strapping himself in.

"Professor, you might need to strap in – Raph's not the most experienced pilot."

"Would you like me to drive?" the Professor asked good-naturedly. Raph and Leo exchanged looks.

"I want to try to get through to Don." The 'if I can' was omitted from the sentence. Raph nodded and set the copter to autopilot while he and the Fugitoid swapped places.

Leo spent a minute or so preparing the laptop to connect up to his Shell Cell. He could get a limited access to the Internet with it, so long as the signal held out so high above the ground.

_What am I thinking? Don made this; it's foolproof tech._

He was lucky in that the laptop he'd picked up was actually equipped with a webcam. He almost hadn't expected it to be.

"Oh – before you connect with that-" the Professor said, and he inserted his interface device into the USB port.

There was a small puff of smoke and the Professor removed the device again.

"It was carrying a tracking module," The Professor explained to an irritated-looking Leonardo. His expression immediately softened.

"Thank you, Professor."

He downloaded Don's Instant Messenger programme from a password protected website Don had created. It was bland to look at – it was only a parent directory, but had uploads of the Turtle's most commonly used software and wingdings. Don had thought of such things as drivers for the Shell Cells and a selection of favourite mp3s, so his brothers could change their ring tones whenever they wanted to, wherever they were.

Leo tapped his fingers against his foot impatiently.

He knew he could just call Don on the Shell Cell, but somehow there was no comfort in that. He wanted to be able to see what was going on, to know more than just a voice.

Finally, the software was in a useable state. He buzzed Don, a bowling ball in his stomach as he wondered what might have changed in all the hours that had passed since his last conversation with him.

It took a long time for Don to answer – even longer than before. In fact, Leo buzzed twice before he managed to raise his brother.

'Leo?'

'Yeah, it's me. How's Mikey?'

'I dont really knpw anymore. I haevnt seen him adn I cn't get up.'

Leo's heart sank.

'April#s here/' Don's comment came before Leo had typed a response.

'Turn the webcam on, Donny.'

There was a pause. Leo waited, his impatience like nausea in his stomach.

'You don't want emt o do tha t' came the response after a while.

'Donny… :(' was Leo's response. He could almost hear the sigh Donny would give to the emotional blackmail.

After a minute or so, the webcam window opened up. What Leo saw caused his breath to hitch in his throat and he could feel the blood draw away from his skin.

"Don…"

"I told you… You didn't want me… to do that…" Don panted. His mask was missing and he held a bloody cloth in his hand. He could barely lift his head, but he forced himself to and the eyes that looked back at Leo were empty, and full of pain. He could sense even through the 2D rendering in front of him that his brother was nearing his limit; that he was fighting but that with every second it got harder.

Even as Leo watched, tears of blood filled his brother's eyes and Don pushed the cloth into them, his hand shaking.

"Sorry… 'm sorry…" he said. Leo shook his head.

"No, no – don't…don't be sorry. I…guess I don't need to ask how you are," Leo said. He could see Raph's curious head appear over the top of the laptop, but Leo simply shook his head at him.

"If we pretend… you didn't ask…I don't have to…lie to you," Don forced, in mimicry of the words his brother had said to him early that morning.

For a moment, Leo was dumbstruck.

Don put his head down on the desk and panted some more, barely holding onto his consciousness.

"If you're this bad – how bad is Mikey?" Leo asked eventually, voice corrupted by concern. Don merely shook his head into his arm.

"I can't… I can't work anymore…I've done everything I can, and it'snotgoodenough..." his words mingled into one as his voice filled with the hard proof of real tears in his eyes.

"Shh… Don, it'll be okay… It'll be okay, Raph and I have good news – we got the hard drive, but we also got Professor Honeycutt." Leo felt duty bound to do something to lift his brother's depression. His body ached to be near him, he ached to fill his arms, ached to pass on his hope and strength to his poor, suffering sibling.

"That…that's good…" Don forced, his voice waning a little. "That _is_ good… I could…do with his help…right now…" Leo could sense his determination waning along with his voice. If he knew Donatello at all – and he felt that he did – he knew that sometimes he didn't run until he'd passed the finish line. Sometimes, just sometimes he would slow down at the last moment, before he crossed that final barrier. He knew he would feel that once he'd passed the reins over, he could stop fighting.

Donatello didn't like to fight.

"Donny – that doesn't mean you can give up. Do you hear me?"

But he wasn't sure his brother could. He could no longer lift his head from the desk and his body – his entire body, from what Leonardo could see – was covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Uhgghh…huhhh… It's so…_hot_ in here…" Don mumbled into his arm. He lifted his head a fraction, and Leo could see that his nose was bleeding, and that the bloody tears were back.

He felt utterly, utterly helpless.

"April! April, are you there!?" Leo shouted, trying to get a message to their friend that Don needed her help. He could hear Don crying and it broke his heart.

"April! Master Splinter!"

Leo swore loudly and turned to face Raph. Raph's curiosity had peaked at first – but he couldn't bear to do what Leo was doing, he couldn't bear to watch as Donatello suffered. Even worse was the knowledge that Mikey was going through – or had already gone through – the same pain.

"Raph, give me your Shell Cell, quickly!" Raph immediately passed his communicator to Leo, who flicked it open and dialled April.

Every unanswered ring was agony. Donatello's breathing was getting rougher and rougher, making Leo more desperate than before.

"Come _on_ April!"

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, April answered her Shell Cell.

"Raph-"

"April, Donny needs you! He's in his room – and he's in a bad way. Please, _please_ go to him…!" Leo felt his own eyes well up even as he spoke. The entire world had disappeared to him; all that remained was the image on that screen, the image of his brother suffering, in pain, and –for all Leo knew – _dying_.

April immediately hung up her Shell Cell and it was mere seconds before Leo saw her enter the room behind Donny, her face a husk of worry but her words gentle. She pulled him out of the chair, even as his breathing worsened further.

"You're burning…" Leo heard April say, "And Mikey's still in the bath…"

Within seconds he was coughing, and in addition to the bloody tears and nose came dark, dark blood - like coffee grounds – from his mouth.

"Oh…Oh, _this_ is new…" April said, her face paleing. She pressed a hand to Don's forehead, but he was senseless – he didn't know she was there or even where he was. He wouldn't let go of his twisted consciousness; still trying to fight, still trying to be the more responsible brother, trying vainly not to fall before the weapon of this enemy.

"_Casey_! Casey, come quickly!" April cried, not wishing to leave the failing turtle. A few moments later, Casey raced into the room and rushed to April's side.

"Does Mikey still need the bath?" April asked breathlessly. Casey rubbed his face.

"It's the only thing that gives him any comfort." He said. "Even with the ice, the fever's only just controllable."

"Is there any ice left?" April asked. Casey nodded. Don moaned, and it was a moan of agony, a sound that represented the pain of flames dancing across his skin. He whimpered continually after that – unable to shake his pain.

"Quickly, get me some. We're going to go old school on this one, Don – I don't like it, but we don't have much choice."  
She grabbed some of the towels from the pile Don had left nearby and threw them down on the floor roughly, as Casey ran from the room. Running up the ladder to Don's bed, she grabbed the sheet and dragged it off roughly, pulling hard as a corner trapped itself on the far side of the bed.

She practically leapt off the ladder and went to the towels, throwing the sheet over them. Using all her strength, she pulled the 180lb turtle across the floor, managing to somehow raise him onto the sheet.

Desperately, she looked around for something – anything – she could use to raise the edges of the sheet – she had to keep the ice in close proximity to Donatello. Her eyes fell onto his work table, supporting a few plants, a small number of tools – and with surprise, April realised – a picture of herself.

She was going to have to rethink her plan slightly.

"Sorry, Don," she said, as she unseated the items on the table with one sweep of her arm. Some things survived; some things didn't. Straining her muscles, she tipped the table over onto its face, so that the legs were sticking up.

Casey re-entered the room then, a bag of ice slung over his shoulder. He immediately dropped it, raced to April and took over, dragging the table to the centre of the room.

"Pick up Don for me." April said, grabbing the towels and the sheets as soon as Casey lifted the turtle onto his back. She quickly laid the towels into the well in the table and threw the sheet across the table legs, patting it down in the centre. It was somewhat like a grounded hammock now; the sheet would hold the ice close to Donatello.

Casey asked if she was ready for Don, and April nodded. She stood back as Casey lowered the stricken turtle into the makeshift bed.

"I need a bucket of water," she said, and in seconds Casey was gone, on the trail of such an item. April went quickly to the bag of ice and dragged it over.

"Don… You can hold on for me, right? You can hold on for me? I…don't know if I can do this without you, Don, I need _you _to finish what we started…"

The ice burned her hands as she scooped it out of the bag and into the makeshift bed.

Donatello screamed – the ice was _too_ cold without the water to temper it. April jumped back as though stung. Casey appeared just in time at her shoulder, panting slightly and carrying the bucket of water. April stood and took it from him, without a word, and slowly tipped it across Don's agonised body. He gasped involuntarily as the water cooled his besieged frame.

April gave the bucket back to Casey and asked him to refill it. He immediately left, not questioning her. She knelt beside Donatello again and scooped more ice into the well of the table, across his chest, along the sides of the sheet where she could get away with it. The poor turtle gasped and shook, and April worried for a moment that he was going into convulsions. As it was, the moment passed, and he began to acclimatise.

Casey returned with another bucket of water and April repeated her previous actions. The water overflowed around the tormented turtle and although the sheet absorbed some of the moisture, a trickle of water escaped the enclosure, snaking its way across the floor.

* * *

Leo closed the laptop. His hands shook on the metallic lid and he closed his eyes, his heart in his mouth.

He couldn't bear to watch anymore.

Raph looked expectant.

"We need a cure _now_. Before this day ends, we need to know exactly what we're dealing with," he said, a tremor in his voice.

"Professor?"

"Yes?"

"I wish you could have talked to Don – he'd done so much work on the virus already. It…doesn't look as though you'll be able to – not for a while."

"Perhaps I can view his research remotely?" the Professor asked. Leo looked doubtful.

"Don's a security freak. He won't have left a single vulnerability on the system."

"Then perhaps I can access the data we downloaded from Bishop's hardware. That might tell me something." The Fugitoid said. He handed the controls back to Raphael and stood, making his way to the seat Raph had been fretting in.

For a moment, his expressive lights went dark. Then they flickered intermittently – indicating that he was accessing vast amounts of data at impossible speeds by Earth standards.

"Oh my…" he said after a period, as his lights flickered back on full power. "This looks familiar."

"It does?" Leo said incredulously. The Fugitoid nodded.

"This is…the A-210 virus. It _does_ make sense – but I haven't seen a sample of it for some years."

"So, Professor – if you know what it is, can you cure it?" Leo asked, even as the Fugitoid made to speak again. He glanced at Raph, knowing that they shared the same look of impatient hope. Professor Honeycutt looked between them.

"Well… yes. It may take some hours to cultivate the necessary-"

"But you _can _do it?" Leo's voice was insistent and strong. The Professor nodded.

"I can also vaccinate you two against it – if you can give me access to the right equipment."

"Whatever you need Professor, you've got it. You have made my day. Shell, you have made _my life,_" Leo said, his elation clear. The Fugitoid laughed shyly and said,

"It is good to be able to repay the many favours you have done for me."

"If you can do this, Professor, we may still end up owing _you _favours."

The Professor offered to take over the helicopter controls from Raph and the turtle agreed without question, grasping Leo's shoulder as he moved towards his own chair. Leo put his hand on Raph's for the brief period that it remained on his shoulder.

"Professor? How do you know the virus? Where did it come from?"

"Well, my friends, that is a very long and sad story." The Professor said, flicking some switches above him and putting both hands on the controls.

"There was – and still is – a planet in the Sidayom System called Retanta. It is now on the brink of being reclassified as a dead planet.

"It was home to a race of the same name – the Retanta were peaceful, relaxed creatures, with a civilisation that surpassed anything found on D'hoonnib. Their resources were legend; they took gentle care of their planet – which was like your planet in that it was mostly water. The Retanta were reptilian creatures; they had the heads of crocodiles, but the rest of their bodies resembled your own - they too were bipeds. There was some evidence to suggest that they had developed some time travel capabilities, but this was never proven.

"However, their overall happiness and success was seen as salt in the wound to some of the other planets and they often found themselves at the mercy of political unrest and diplomatic snobbery.

"Whether A-210 was something that developed naturally on their planet, or whether it was something introduced to them to advance their end of days we will never know.

"It was terrible. There was great suffering on the planet. Thousands of Retanta were dying every day."

The Professor stopped as he saw the look on Leonardo's face.

"I'm sorry. I should have-"

"Don't worry, Professor. Please, go on," Leo said, not looking up from the helicopter controls.

Hesitantly the Fugitoid continued.

"It was a humanitarian crisis, as this planet might refer to it. It quickly became a inter-galaxial nightmare. The Retanta begged for inter-planetary help – and got it from an unlikely source.

"General Blanque commissioned me to develop a cure. I did it gladly; the idea of an entire planet suffering such devastation brought tears to my eyes.

"What I hadn't realised was that he would use the cure to hold the planet to ransom."

Raph growled angrily in the back of the copter. The Fugitoid flicked a few more switches.

"I had never expected even the General to be so…inhuman. He negotiated them into a corner but their president, Sobek, died only a day before the cure could be delivered. His own advisors and generals lay on their deathbeds.

"Within the space of two weeks, the Retanta were dead, leaving their planet as their only legacy."

All parties on the copter were silent. Raph's fists were tight against the arms of the chair he was strapped into. Leo's expression was dark.

"Our brothers. How long do they have?" Leo asked eventually.

"How long have they been ill?" the Fugitoid answered.

"Since yesterday evening."

"Then we don't have much time. The destructive life of the virus is only sixty hours."

"Two and a half days… How much time do you need to cultivate the cure, Professor?"

"The vaccine can be ready in two or three hours of work. The cure itself will take a further three hours."

_Good. That way, we can at least be with them, _Leo thought to himself grimly.

All too clear in his memory was the vision of watching his brother fail, losing his grip on his consciousness and himself.

* * *

"Where'd Master Splinter go…?" Mikey asked, his voice slurred. April poured some water across his forehead and said,

"He's gone to look after Don for a little while."

"What's wrong… with Donny? Is he sick too…?" Mikey asked, his tired eyes fixed on April's as she rested against the side of the bath. She put her head on her arm and stroked Mikey's forehead with her thumb.

"Yeah," she said sadly. Mikey blinked; although he didn't speak, it was clear that the pressure on his forehead seemed to relieve some kind of pain – so April didn't stop.

"Where's Raph? And Leo? Are _they_ sick?"

"Don't you remember?" April asked, concerned at Mikey's lack of organised thought. Mikey tried to shake his head, and then remembered how much it and his neck hurt.

"No… Should I remember something?" he asked, his breathing quickening as panic started to set in. April shook her head and put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him.

"No, it's fine, it's fine – don't worry. Don't worry, Mikey, it'll all be okay. Your brothers will come through for you, I know it."

"Did something happen to them…?" Michelangelo's hands snapped out and grabbed the sides of the bath. His grip was weak, but his response was so fearsome that April felt the need to call for Casey.

The confused and embattled turtle looked at April, pain flashing across his features. April's mothering instinct kicked in and she pressed Mikey back down into the bathwater even as he tried to raise himself out of it.

"Mikey, don't panic – there's no need for you to panic…" Mikey grabbed out at April suddenly, filling her with dread for a moment.

She knew that if Mikey was fully compos mentis he would never harm her – but he wasn't and in that there was the edge of fear, of her own insecurity. The bloody water in the bath poured over the edge and small chunks of ice made their way over too, bouncing across the bathroom floor.

"Mikey, sit still-!" April yelled, just as Casey came to the door. Immediately he was by April's side, using his own brute force to stop Mikey raising himself out of the bath. Mikey looked at April, terror in his eyes. She locked onto his eyes even as she struggled with him. Suddenly, Mikey's head fell back, his eyes open in his head, the life seeming to seep out of them.

"Oh my God… Mikey… _Mikey_…!" April screamed

"You ain't dead, right bro?!" Casey asked, panic in his voice as his hands drove into the water, pulling the turtle up into a sitting position. "Raph'll never forgive me if I let one of you guys die!" There was a pause during which neither of the two attendants even dared to breathe.

Suddenly, Mikey took a deep, shuddering breath and blinked hard. His breathing was harsh and irregular and his hand flew to his chest. He still looked frightened and even as April tried to comfort him, Master Splinter ran into the room.

"Michelangelo! My son!" he was immediately at the side of his youngest son, his palm to his forehead, his words soothing even as Michelangelo wept.

"I can't see! I can't _see_!

"Why won't it go away, sensei? _Why won't it go away_!?" he screamed, even as he fought for breath. His fear brought tears to the eyes of all those present – even Casey.

The Turtle brothers were like family to him. He had been robbed of his own family as a small boy, and he'd never felt as though he belonged anywhere since then – except for when he was with the Turtles. They were misfits, forced to live underground until a more enlightened world could accept them for what they were. To Casey they were full of support and friendship and love and it was something that invariably drew him like a fish on a line. He'd been robbed of the love of a family and so in the Turtles he had found a new family. They'd do anything for him – and he for them.

"Um…hello?" came a metallic voice from the doorway. Casey turned, his eyes flashing. There should be no intruders here, nobody was allowed to take advantage of this moment of his family's weakness, he – Casey Arnold Jones – would not allow it. He would not lose another family. He'd destroy any enemy, take down any foe to protect his brothers. He barrelled towards the doorway, no weapon in his hands - only his bare, brute strength to protect him.

"_Goongola_!" he yelled as the Fugitoid shied back and waved his hands quickly in front of him.

"Oh dear!" he cried. April stood and recognised the little robot from the Turtle's descriptions.

"No! Casey, stop!" April cried, but Casey was beyond hearing her. He grabbed the Professor by the neck and raised him into the air.

"Who sent you!? Huh!? Was it that Bishop!?"

"N-no!" forced the Professor. "Raphael…and Leonardo sent me, to-"

"Casey, put Professor Honeycutt down!" April said, grabbing Casey's arm. Casey growled.

"How's this thing know Raph and Leo?" he asked. April quickly explained that the robot now in his hands was the Fugitoid, and most certainly a friend. Casey's expression of fury eased. He put the robot down on the floor and dusted him off.

"Sorry about that, buddy," he said, apologetically.

"N-not at all," replied the Professor nervously. "I commend you on your very strong grip." He cleared his mechanical throat in a very human notion.

"I'm glad that Michelangelo and Donatello have you here to protect them." Casey preened a little at that statement. The Fugitoid moved past them then to Splinter, who sat powerless beside his still weeping son. He glanced at Michelangelo and although his expression was stationary, as always, April felt his sorrow at what he saw.

"Master Splinter?"

"Professor. You will help my sons?" Splinter asked, dismissing all decorum and getting straight to the point. He knew that Michelangelo and Donatello didn't have time for niceties.

"Yes, Master Splinter. I have come down to use Donatello's equipment. I know how to prepare the cure, and can also prepare a vaccine for Raphael and Leonardo."

Splinter looked gladly upon the alien robot and clasped his hands between his own.

"Donatello's equipment is in his room. Miss O'Neil, would you take the Professor to Donatello's room, please?"

"Of course, Master Splinter," April agreed instantly, and led the Fugitoid down the corridor to Donatello's room.

"I can't tell you how glad we are to see you!" exclaimed April. "The boys have been so ill… How did you know what's wrong already, without examining them?"

"It is a long story better saved for another day," the Fugitoid said gently. He sighed as he entered Donatello's room and saw the turtle on his side in the reversed table, his breathing weak and juddery.

"My friend…" the Professor said sadly. April noticed immediately that Donatello had spat up more blood in the absence of a carer and sat down at his head, hand diving into a bloody bowl of water and fishing for the cloth she knew to be there. Gently she wiped his face and chest, knowing that he'd be embarrassed if he knew what she was doing, but quite prepared not to say anything if it ever came up in conversation. His immediate welfare was much more important than his occasionally delicate confidence.

His consciousness was gone. One thing that worried April was that he seemed to be cognisant much less when compared to his brother. Mikey was the attention seeker; in some ways it was to be expected that he was a noisier patient – but since Don's last conversation with Leonardo it was as though he had simply ceased to raise his voice about anything.

The Professor spotted some equipment that would be of use to him. He sat down at the computer with it, and interfaced with the network.

"I know where some of Don's other stuff is, if you need it,"April said.

"Thank you.

"I may need some more help - with the process."

"Whatever you need, Professor. You just let me know," April said, not taking her eyes from her charge.

* * *

Raphael was not a patient turtle. Having him pace forward and back, forward and back in front of him was distracting Leo from his meditations.

"If you would sit down and meditate for a bit, Raph, you'd calm down," he said, opening one eye.

"Calm down? Calm down?! I don't want to calm down, I want to get down there and see what's going on!" Raphael exclaimed, continuing his pacing.

"It's no different for me, Raph. But we have to wait for Professor Honeycutt to come back. There's just nothing else we can do until we're inoculated."

"I _know_! I just…" Raph stopped and looked at his hands helplessly. Leo nodded.

"But wearing a hole in April's carpet isn't going to help." Leo closed his eye again and began breathing internally.

"How can you be so calm?" Raphael asked his brother suddenly. Leo sighed and opened both eyes.

"Because there's nothing else I can be right now. I owe it to Don and Mikey to keep a clear head – or I might not be able to help them when they need it and there's actually something I can _do_."

Raphael walked across to the window, pressing his hands against the frame and leaning into it. He pressed his face against his arm as he hung there, in stasis, waiting and hoping.

He glanced across the room as he heard a knocking on the main door downstairs.

"I'll go," said Raphael, his hands on his sai - itching for an excuse to use them. Leo got to his feet and walked his brother to the door, standing silently at the top of the stairs with his katana drawn as Raphael headed silently down, his presence cloaked, the dark night outside not illuminating his shape at all on the shadowy stairwell.

"Hello?" came the uncertain voice of Professor Honeycutt from outside. Raphael sheathed his sai and Leonardo relaxed. Unlocking the door, Raphael silently ushered in the Fugitoid.

"How are they? How's the cure coming?" asked Raph immediately, closing the door. The Professor nodded.

"The cure is coming along very well. It should be ready in a few hours. Your brothers…

"Well, I think it's best that you see them."

The Fugitoid opened a hatch in his chest and withdrew two hypodermic syringes.

"I've never been so excited about being jabbed with a needle before," said Leo, a strange look on his face as the Fugitoid administered the vaccination first to him and then to Raphael.

"Are we ready to go right away, Professor?" Leo asked. Professor Honeycutt nodded.

"Leo – let's blow this pop stand," Raph said, a determined look on his face.

* * *

Splinter gently stroked the cloth across Donatello's face. He had spent the last two hours with Michelangelo, trying to coax him into a stronger frame of mind. It was hard; he'd been in practically constant agony for an entire day and now, to make things worse, had lost his sight to the virus. Only time would tell if the damage was permanent. Night had drawn them into its dark arms, marking the thirty-sixth hour of Michelangelo's infection with the virus.

But April had come to the Master, expressing her concern that Donatello was unresponsive when he came to, and that his spates of consciousness were rare and becoming more so.

At least Michelangelo would tell you when he was suffering, even if he took you to his unhappy place with him. Donatello was much more subdued and had always been; always keen to play down any pain or illness, any suffering he was going through. It was much harder to tell when things were serious with Don; he kept his cards so close to his chest.

"Your youngest brother is so demanding, my quiet son. And I…

"Perhaps I have not been as attentive to you as I should have been these past hours.

"Perhaps it is because you were doing so well at first...

"Perhaps it is because I was…angry at you for not going to bed when you were told to, and therefore avoiding the incident in your laboratory.

"Perhaps I was hurt to be so helpless…

"Perhaps I was desperate for the support of your absent brothers, Raphael and Leonardo.

"Whatever the reason, my son… I am sorry. There are many reasons but no excuses."

He heard the blood rise in Donatello's throat and encouraged him to spit into the facecloth he held. He didn't know if his son could hear him or not, but he wouldn't leave it to chance. There seemed to be some reaction, so he cajoled some more and slowly, Donatello coughed, clearing the blood in his throat.

"M-master…" The turtle uttered, his voice nothing but a shadow.

The word was mirrored by a voice next to the old rat.

"Master?" Splinter turned to see his oldest son by his side. Leonardo put a hand on Splinter's shoulder as he looked at Donatello, sorrow in his eyes.

"Leonardo, my son! Is it safe for you to be here?" Splinter asked, his heart full of concern. He had no will, no will at all to see his other two sons suffer as their brothers had. Leo turned to him and smiled reassuringly.

"Raphael and I have been vaccinated by the Professor. We're not at risk anymore."

"Then we have much to thank him for." Splinter put his hand over Leo's.

"Welcome home, my son.

"I only wish that we had been whole on your return." Leo tightened his grip on his father's shoulder.

"How are they, Sensei?" he asked, dropping to his knees beside Don. Master Splinter sighed, and Leo saw how tired he was.

"They are both so ill – I have never seen anything so potent, so destructive. Michelangelo is in the bathroom. April is watching over him. His illness has been aggressive and painful, but Donatello's has been dark and stealthy. He has symptoms that Michelangelo did not show."

"Raphael has gone to be with Michelangelo," Leo said, reassuring his father further.

"Let me take over, Master. Let me look after Donatello. Please – rest for a while." His words were gentle and he coaxed the face cloth out of his father's hand. Splinter nodded.

"I know you are right, my son. But I do not know if I can allow myself to neglect your brother again." Leo looked confused. Splinter didn't move; he was reluctant to leave Don after having come to his side so recently.

"You don't have to leave the room if you don't want to, Master. You can rest in Donatello's bed," Leo gently insisted. Master Splinter knew he was being herded, but allowed himself to pass the reins over to his oldest son, knowing that a cure was now in the offing and that Leonardo was more than capable of taking control of the situation.

He had trained him well.

"Yes, my son. Perhaps I will do that."

Leonardo waited for his father to stand, and then moved into the gap he had vacated by Don's head. Master Splinter picked up the bowl of water and indicated for the face cloth.

"I will change this," he said. Leo nodded and settled himself in by his brother. He was fervently worried about Mikey, but knew he was in good hands. Raph might have made a lot of noise about Mikey and their brother might have driven him crazy sometimes but he was very fond of him, despite all that. He'd never let anything bad happen – not all the time he had any control over the situation.

Leo gently put his hands in the water and ice surrounding his brother and tipped what water he could over his shoulders. There was much less water in Don's makeshift bed than there was in the bath with Mikey; it was making it more difficult to maintain a stable temperature for him.

Don coughed, and Leo patted his shoulder softly. Don's eye's opened slowly. He blinked blankly and looked confused for a moment as he looked up at his older brother.

"Leo?" he asked, his voice stripped and bare. Leo nodded and smiled gently.

"Yeah, Donny. It's me," he said, softly. Don's eyes suddenly focused on his brother's face, and they filled with fear.

"No! You…you can't be here… You're not… It's not safe… You'll…get sick, you'll…" Don tried to turn in his white prison and found that he had no room to manoeuvre or any energy to do it with. He panted and coughed, blood pouring down his face from his nose.

"Donny, calm down! It's fine, we've-" but Leo was interrupted by his frantic brother.

"Is R-raph here too? He'll get sick, it's… it's not… You'll _die_…"

"Nobody's going to die, Don, _nobody_. Do you hear me? Calm down." Leo's words were firm, even as his heart pounded in his chest. His hands were pressed onto his brother's shoulders, trying to maintain contact, trying to keep him still so he didn't hurt himself.

"Mikey… Oh, Mikey… Mikey got so sick…" Don said, pushing himself forward, desperately delirious. He struck out at Leo, pushing him away; in his own way trying to protect him. All it did was break Leo's heart. There was no strength in his brother's movements; it was like fighting a kitten.

"Donny, stop! Raph is with Mikey. It's okay - he's strong and ornery; he'll be fine. The professor's here, he's working on a cure for you and Mikey and-"

"But you-!"

"-And Raph and I have been vaccinated. We're vaccinated. Okay? We're vaccinated. We're allowed to be here now." Leo's voice softened as his brother started to weep.

He carefully shifted Don back into the table-bed and pulled the corner of the sheet back over the raised leg on his right – it had become dislodged due to Donatello's frantic clawing and panicking.

Leo wiped his hand across Don's face without a cloth to protect it, clearing it of blood and tears without even the tiniest flinch. He rinsed his palm in the little water that remained in the bottom of the table.

"See? It'll be okay. You're nearly there, Donny - don't give in now. You're nearly at the finish line. Don't give in to it, _never_ give in to it. Just keep fighting; don't drop your guard." Leo stroked his brother's forehead tenderly, as Master Splinter re-entered the room.

"Leonardo! What has happened here?" he said, moving quickly to his sons' side.

"It's okay, Master. He's okay…" Leo said calmly, not wanting his brother to pick up on the slightest weakness in his voice.

Don reached out blindly for Leo's hand, and Leo surrendered it without question.

"I'm glad…you're here… I couldn't…I couldn't do it…on my own…anymore…" Don panted, his breath coming in tiny gasps. Leo took the cloth from the bowl Master Splinter put by his side and gently wiped Don's face and neck, across his shoulders, all the time shushing his charge gently.

"You knew I'd be here as soon as I could, right? You knew I wouldn't leave you to handle it all on your own?" Leo asked, his voice soft. Don nodded weakly.

"I wanted to be here with you, I want to do what I can for you and Mikey. You know that too, right? I wanted to be here, to give you my strength - I'll always be your strength when you're weak…" Donatello's response was to shakily squeeze Leo's hand.

"I don't…have to be…the strong one…anymore?" he said, his voice disappearing under a layer of tired relief.

"No…You don't have to be the strong one anymore," Leo replied sadly, pressing the face cloth into his tear ducts gently to absorb more bloody tears. He sighed and hoped against hope that Mikey was faring better.

* * *

_End of Chapter Three – thank you for reading:) You should get another update in around seven days!:)_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Vile Vial**_

_**Disclaimer: **__**TMNT was created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. TMNT belongs to Mirage Studios. I am not making any money from this fic.**_

_Author's Note: Thank you for reading so far! Just to warn you, there are two uses of 'language' in this chapter; one mild and one less so._

_**Glossary**_

_Yamete – Stop_

_Tsuka –handle_

* * *

_**Chapter Four**_

"How you doin', nutball?" Raph asked gently. April had left to see if she could do anything for the Fugitoid and so Raph was left alone with his younger brother.

"Raphie… That you…?" Mikey said, his voice thin and his eyes blind. Raph poured a handful of water over his brother's arm.

"Yeah, it's me." He pressed the back of his hand to Mikey's arm and frowned.

"You sure you're not _too_ cold, buddy?"

"Nah… 'S just good," Mikey said, lifting a shaking hand from the water and letting the droplets fall over his face.

"The Professor's here. He's been working up a cure for you."

"The Professor?"

"Professor Honeycutt. You know – the Fugitoid?" Raph asked, concerned that his brother could forget someone like the Professor.

"Oh! _That _professor…" said Mikey blankly.

"Yeah – _that _Professor," Raph said, hanging over the side of the bath. He pulled Mikey's face around, so that he was looking directly into his eyes. For a moment he paused, looking for any sign of recognition in Mikey's eyes – but they were blank and staring, the pupils dilated; the normally bright orbs sought light as if he were sitting in darkness. A part of Raph was glad that Mikey couldn't see his expression, as he released his grip on Mikey's face and turned away from his brothers' blind gaze.

"What's that for?" Mikey asked.

"Nothing, bro. It's nothing," Raph replied, a sigh barely hidden beneath his words.

"How's Donny? Is he sick?" Mikey asked sadly. Raph frowned.

"April said you ask that a lot. Yeah, he's sick. Leo's with him."

"Leo's here?"

"Yeah, Leo came home, too. Although, I gotta tell you Mikey, this is some kind of homecoming," Raphael said, trying to raise at least a smile from Mikey. He succeeded and the sick turtle, never one to miss an opportunity to grandstand, said,

"Yeah – if…if I were you, I'd…take it back and…ask for a refund…"

"Yeah, you keep 'em coming, Mikey, you keep 'em coming. This is the only day you got me on tiptoes waiting for you to crack the next one of your bad jokes," Raphael replied, gently rubbing his brother's head. He glanced down and saw Rufus in the corner of the room, looking decidedly forlorn and alone.

"Wow… You still have this guy?" Raph asked, getting up and fetching him back. He dusted him down and looked at the gloomy teddy bear.

"That my Rufie?" Mikey asked, holding a blind hand out for the soft fabric of the toy.

"Yeah, it's 'your Rufie'. He'll get wet in the bath; you sure you want him?"

"Yeah…" Mikey said, finding instant comfort in the touch of the bear. He pulled him under the water and pressed him against his chest, stroking the dark, wet fabric with shaking hands. Raph's expression of surprise turned into one of sadness.

"You want anything, I'm right here. You just shout, okay?" he said softly. Mikey nodded as best he could.

* * *

The Fugitoid stood at Leonardo's side.

"The cure is ready, Leonardo," He said softly. Leo nodded.

"Good. Don hasn't come around in three hours," he said, getting to his feet. His legs grumbled a little; he'd been in the same position since Donatello had drifted back into stupor. April stood nearby, ready to take over from Leo at a moment's notice.

"April, could you-"

"You got it, Leo," she said, slipping into the place where he had been sitting. Master Splinter took this moment to climb down from Donatello's bed.

"Michelangelo first. He was infected before Donatello," Splinter instructed. Professor Honeycutt nodded and the three of them went through to the bathroom, where Raph and Casey were keeping Michelangelo company. His spirits seemed to be in much better shape since Raph had arrived – it was almost as though he felt the need to impress his brother. Raph didn't mind; if he was distracting Mikey from his illness, it didn't matter at all.

"Hey, Mikey, how are you feeling?" Leo asked as soon as he entered the room.

"Leo…! I got the whole family now…

"Well, nearly…

"Where's Don?

"Is he sick?"

"Yeah, Mikey, but we've got the cure now," Leo said encouragingly, stroking his brother's head with his hand. He indicated for the Fugitoid to come forward.

"Close your eyes, Mikey – this might sting a little," Leo said, keeping his voice as high spirited as he could.

"Heh…Can't see anyway…" Mikey replied, the ghost of a smile on his face. Leo put his hand on Mikey's forehead as the Fugitoid quickly inserted the needle of the hypodermic syringe he was carrying into Mikey's arm.

"Ow… ow…. _Ow_…" Mikey said quietly as the Fugitoid slowly discharged the serum.

Leo stroked Mikey's forehead gently, almost as though his brother was a new puppy taking his first shots.

"How long before it works, Professor?" Leonardo asked.

"It will begin to work immediately – but it will take a few days for him to recover properly, and possibly a week or so before he's totally back to normal."

"Normal? Mikey? It'll take more than a cure for the virus to do that!" exclaimed Raph. He was caught unawares by a heavy slap on his arm, instigated by the brother in the bath. Leo stifled a grin and Raph scowled,

"Hey! I'll let you have that for now, because you're sick – but I am _so_ saving that for later." He looked at Mikey - and found Mikey gazing at him. His eyes were concentrated; for the first time since Raph had arrived by his side, his eyes were able to fully focus and he said,

"I can see you."

"Yes! It's _working_!" Leo exclaimed, and he and Raph smacked fists as they had in Bishop's base at the Pentagon.

Without missing a beat, Leo turned to the Fugitoid.

"Can we administer the serum to Donatello?" he asked. The Fugitoid nodded earnestly.

"Of course!"

* * *

"So…Professor. We haven't even asked you how you got here – what were you doing trapped in Bishop's lab?" Leo asked. The two of them were sitting beside Donatello. April had chosen to stay with them, while Splinter and Raph had stayed with Mikey to observe his progress. The Fugitoid nodded absently.

"Yes – it is quite a story." He replied mildly. "I was taking a moment to relax – I was reading Urmbaum's History of Particle Physics – when suddenly, these humans ran into my home and picked me up, dragging me back to your planet.

"I found myself in a lab full of what I recognised as technology alien to Earth. I don't know where Bishop got so much alien apparatus – I dread to think, I'm sure. However, the equipment that brought me here, to Earth, was all together too familiar.

"Somehow – and I know this may be a blow for you – Bishop has developed a transmat."

"Bishop has a _Transmat_?" Leo asked, aghast. That was going to be trouble, he just knew it. It would probably make Don cry to have to destroy another one, but there would come a time when it needed to be done - and that time was sooner rather than later.

"Yes… I do not know exactly what he wanted with me – we did not get that far before I was shoved in a crate and transported to the room where you found me - but I got the feeling that they were deliberately searching for me for some reason."

They paused, and Leo unconsciously checked Don. At the back of his mind there was a worry; burrowing and tunnelling like an insect.

Don had not yet shown any improvement.

"I don't understand how the A-210 virus got here. Viruses can't exist in space, and unless-" Professor Honeycutt stopped. Leo looked up expectantly.

"It is likely that the Utrom planet was not the first place they tried. If they were searching for me, they may have known that I had connections with the Retanta. If they went there first… Viruses and bacteria are the last things to die on a planet nearing it's end phase. It's possible they brought it back on their shoes.

"But how could they have weaponised it…?" the Professor continued, half to himself. Leo had stopped listening.

"Professor? You said that the serum should start to work immediately, right?" he asked, touching his brother's burning forehead with his fingertips. Donatello's temperature hadn't dropped even a degree.

"Yes… I'm surprised it's taking so long," the Professor said, a worried tone to his voice. Checking Don's wall clock, Leo noted that two hours had passed since the Professor had administered the serum. He frowned.

* * *

"Raph…?" Mikey voice was sleepy, but no longer so distracted.

"Yeah, bro?" Raph replied, getting back up to his knees and putting down his copy of 'The Catcher in the Rye'.

"Can I get out of the bath now? I'm cold." Raph got to his feet immediately and put the back of his hand to Mikey's forehead. It was warm to the touch, but not overly so. He wasn't burning as he had been before, nor quite so pale. Raph smiled, unable to fight back the relief – and not truly willing to.

"Sure, Mikey. Let's get you out of there."

He grabbed a towel from the rack behind him and pulled it over his shoulder.

"Arms up, bro," Raph said, beckoning to Mikey with the signal for 'come'. Mikey lifted his arms shakily into the air and Raph leaned down, pulling him up and away from the dirty water, resting him against his chest and wrapping the towel around his shoulders. Mikey, still too weak to move much, pressed himself into the subtle comfort of Raph's body. Raph readied himself to lift Mikey out of the bath.

"One, two, three – up we go." With one strong motion, he raised Mikey out of the water and put him on his back, heading for the front room.

He lowered him gently to the sofa and dried his brother off with the towel as best he could. Mikey blinked at him sleepily as he did so.

"I'll get you a blanket," Raph said, and went to Mikey's room to lift the green coverlet from his bed.

By the time he returned, Mikey had fallen asleep where he sat, his hands in his lap. A thin smile graced Raph's face and he gently lowered his brother down to the sofa and cast the blanket over him.

"Good to have you back, Mikey," Raph said gently. He put the TV stack on, turning down the volume to a very low setting. Mikey could sleep anywhere, but was always most comfortable when surrounded by others. Raph hoped that the sounds of the TV would comfort him if he woke.

Out of the corner of his eye, Raph could see the burned-out shell of Donatello's lab. He walked over to it, half-heartedly surveying the damage.

"It must have broken Donny's heart to have to do this," he said to himself eventually, turning over a burned and buckled piece of metal with his foot. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Casey approaching him.

"Yeah. Master Splinter said he didn't even think twice about it, though. He did it so the virus wouldn't spread to you and Leo."

"I know that," Raph replied, kicking the small piece of metal. "But it just makes it harder to take, somehow. You have to know how much time he spent in that lab to really understand it, but..."

"Yeah…" Casey replied, a look of concerned sympathy on his face. Raph sighed.

"Keep an eye on Mikey for me will ya, Case? I need to go in to see Donny." Raphael had briefly popped his head around the door when they had first arrived, to see how Don was faring, but he hadn't been in to see him since the cures had been issued.

"Sure – no problem," Casey replied.

"Just come get me if he needs anything," Raph said, turning towards Don's room.

As he entered, a feeling of trepidation washed over him. It was all wrong in this room; Leo's face was too worried, the Fugitoid was too busy, April was too quiet. Master Splinter had also come to Donatello's side, and his face contained all the proof Raph needed to know that something was very wrong.

"What happened?" Raph asked, moving to sit at Leo's side. Don looked every bit as ill as the last time he had seen him – not at all like Mikey, who had shown such impressive improvement in only a few hours.

"It's more like what _hasn't _happened." Leo's voice was heavy as he watched the Fugitoid insert a needle into Don's arm and draw blood.

"He's not any better?" Raph asked, his frown evident in his voice. Leo shook his head.

"Not a bit. He's exactly as he was. It's as if he never had the cure.

"How's Mikey?"

"He seems okay. He's asleep in the front room, I left Casey with him."

"So he's out of the bath?" Leo asked, surprised. Raph smiled.

"Yeah – it was too cold for him."

"Good. That's good." Leo smiled, partly to reassure himself. He was pleased that Mikey was doing so well, and impressed at the speed he was recovering. That said, Mikey had always been the fastest healer of the four.

But it wasn't enough to allay his fear.

"I think if the bath is free, we'd best move Donny into it."

The two brothers paused.

"Can we afford to move him?" Raph asked. Leo looked to the Professor for an answer. The Fugitoid was busying over a microscope, examining the sample he had just taken.

"If you take it slowly, he should be okay," said the Fugitoid. "Or at least, I'm 97.4 sure he will." He looked away from the microscope, as if double checking his calculations. He nodded, confirming them to himself.

"Can you tell us anything yet, Professor?" Leo asked.

"I probably will be able to by the time you've moved him."

"I will prepare the bath." Master Splinter got to his feet and left the room, his heart heavy.

"Come on, Raph. Let's get Donny somewhere more…" Leo had been about to say 'comfortable', but he wasn't sure a bath was more comfortable – only more practical.

"…appropriate," he decided on, eventually.

* * *

Master Splinter ran fresh water in the bath. He had wiped down the sides of the enamelled tub, so that no remnant of Michelangelo's suffering remained. In the sink, was a forlorn looking teddy-bear.

He heard the approach of his two sons as they carried their brother. He sighed and stood back, the water still running.

Gently, Leo and Raph lowered Donatello into the bath. He emitted a tiny moan as he touched the water; they had no way of knowing if it was a good sound or a bad sound.

"We are running low on clean towels and cloths," Master Splinter said. "Perhaps Miss O'Neil would be kind enough to loan us some clean ones?"

"I'll ask," Raph said, glancing at Donatello on his way out.

Leo took the last clean towel from a cupboard to his right. Tearing it down to a useable size, he soaked it and applied it to Don's face and neck. On his way to the bathroom, he had spit blood on himself once again.

"It's okay, Donny. This is just a setback. We'll figure something out… I promise…" Leo said softly to his brother.

Master Splinter had rarely been so proud of his son. The delicate and compassionate way he was taking care of his brothers was proof of the master's decision to quietly train him as leader. He knew that, for Leonardo, nothing was more important than his family – and that he would stop at nothing to find a solution to this problem.

However, he also knew that his son was tired. The morning was upon them and he, along with Raphael, had not rested. When tired, his sons were more likely to make mistakes, errors of judgement that they would never normally fall victim to. He moved forward to kneel by his son.

"Leonardo… Go to the Professor. He may have some information for you. I will take care of Donatello." He held his hand out for the scrap of towel and Leo hesitantly handed it to him.

"When you have finished with the Professor, both you and Raphael are to take to your beds and sleep. I do not wish to see you again in anything less than five hours." Leo looked shocked at his master's instructions.

"But, Master, I-"

"Do not disobey me, Leonardo. As you instructed me to rest earlier, I am instructing you to do the same. What good will you be to your brother when you can no longer keep your eyes open?"

Leo cast his eyes away from his father. He knew he was right – but it didn't make it any easier to implement his wishes. He wanted to be beside Don every moment, ready at a second's notice to help, to mend him, to _save_ him whenever the answer came.

Leo's hand tightened on the side of the bath.

"Yes, Master," he said, grudgingly.

* * *

April had left by the time Leo returned to Don's room, and Raph was having a heated discussion with the Fugitoid.

"What do you mean, its not working!?" Raph ranted.

"If you stop giving him the heavyman routine, the Professor will explain," Leo growled at Raph as he approached.

"Well, the…the serum isn't encouraging his body to fight back. That's what it does; it strengthens the body's immune system and adds chemical antibodies, so that the body can create antibodies of it's own to fight the virus," the Professor said, nervously.

"It would seem that the virus mutated in Donatello; it's stronger now and the serum alone cannot undo it's replication process. It's compromising Donatello's cells at an alarming rate.

"There is also a lot of urea in his bloodstream. The presence of that, along with the type of blood he's coughing up, indicates some damage to his kidneys.

"The kidneys can be quite hardy; that may not be as bad as it sounds, but… all those things combined are not working in his favour.

"We need to increase his uptake of the serum antibodies. I need to start work on a more concentrated, higher-strength serum."

"How long will that take?" asked Leo. The Professor met his eyes. He fell silent, fidgeting in his chair, until he finally said,

"I don't know."

"How much time does Donatello have?" Leo asked. Again, the Fugitoid fidgeted.

"I'm…afraid I don't know that, either. The normal lifespan of the virus is sixty hours. I've done some calculations, and as far as I can tell he's now been ill for around thirty-two hours – just over half of the viral lifespan.

"The fact that his kidneys are damaged is of great concern. He is probably already dehydrated from being ill so long, and not being able to take fluids by mouth. If we don't get him rehydrated, his kidneys may fail completely."

"How can we get him rehydrated?" Leo asked urgently.

"By using intravenous therapy. Some normal saline will do it – but we don't have any here. It may be that you will need to, _ahem_, find some."

"You tell us where to find it, Professor, and we'll find it. What Don needs, Don gets," Leo said, his arms crossed over his chest.

_Twenty-eight hours left._ Leo thought to himself. _I don't like that – I don't like that at all. And Master Splinter wants us to sleep? Sleep is the furthest thing from my mind right now - how can we sleep when our world is falling to pieces around us? I know he's right, but I… I can't just… We, at least, need to get that saline before we rest. I know Raph will agree with me._

_Sorry, Master._ _This time we_ have _to disobey you; we've got no choice._

There was a small whimper from the doorway. Both Leo and Raph turned immediately.

"Donny didn't…Donny didn't die, did he?" Michelangelo asked, his face a mask of dread as he propped himself up against the doorway with one hand. Casey stood beside him, supporting him. Leo moved towards Mikey quickly, putting both hands on his shoulders gently.

"Mikey…What are you doing up?"

"Because Casey said he was here, and…" Tears filled Michelangelo's eyes. Leo shook his head and said soothingly,

"No… No it's okay, Mikey. Donny didn't die. We just moved him to the bath, that's all. You can go see him there if you want to – before you go lay down again." He glanced pointedly at Casey, who looked embarrassed.

"Yeah… I want to," Mikey said. Leo nodded and smiled encouragingly.

"Leo – are we getting this stuff or what?" Raph asked grimly. Leo nodded.

"Yeah."

He watched as Michelangelo left for the bathroom.

_I hope he's up to seeing Donny like that._ Leo thought to himself bleakly.

Coming back to his impatient brother and the Fugitoid, Leo asked,

"Where can we find this saline, Professor, and what does it look like?"

"Well, a medical supplies warehouse will have what we need – or a hospital."

"I don't want to take this stuff from a hospital if we don't have to," Leo frowned.

"Then there's a medical supply warehouse near here." The Professor pointed to the computer screen, where he had diligently sought an address and map to the same said supply warehouse. He then flicked between pictures of exactly what it was he wanted and talked the brothers through it. Leo was glad; he wouldn't have known an 18-gauge IV from a rapid infuser.

* * *

Michelangelo stumbled into the bathroom, followed quickly by Casey. Splinter looked up at the approach of his son.

"Michelangelo! Why are you not resting?" he asked, his voice firm.

"I wanted to see Donny," Mikey replied. His face fell as his eyes rested on his brother.

"So he's still sick," he said hesitantly.

"Yes, my son. I'm afraid he is," Splinter said, turning back to Donatello. "Mr Jones, we have no more ice."

"I'll get some," Casey replied. He released his steadying hold on Mikey and headed towards the door. Mickey sat down heavily beside Splinter, cross-legged and with his hands in his lap.

"Was I sick like that?" Mikey asked, looking at Don's tormented face.

"There was little difference between your illness and the affliction still burdening Donatello. Not to the naked eye, at least," Master Splinter replied. He turned to his youngest son and put a hand on his.

"It is good to have you back, my son. If nothing else over these past, _accursed_, two days has brought me any pleasure, _that_ certainly has. However, please – next time you find strange items on your travels through the sewers, _call _home before you _bring_ them home." His voice was gentle, but his words were heartfelt. Mikey had the grace to look away in shame.

"It _is_ my fault, isn't it?" he said quietly. Splinter put a hand on the top of his son's head. Although his love and fondness for his uninhibited son was clear, his silence was telling. Mikey looked once more to his much-loved brother as he languished in the bath.

"Come on, Donny. You have to hold on until the Professor can fix you up, too. It'll be okay, it has to be."

Mikey hung his hands over the bath, taking one of Don's in his own.

"But I'll stay with you – just to make sure.

"I'm sorry, Donny."

* * *

"Is that everything?" asked Leo. Raph nodded, flicking through the sheets of paper the Professor had printed, complete with pictures.

"Yeah, looks like it."

"Is this thing collapsible?" Leo asked, fiddling with the infusion stand. Everything else had fitted neatly into Don's bag, but the infusion stand was determined to be a thorn in Leo's side. A wicked grin passed over Raph's face and he rested an elbow against a crate of supplies as he watched his brother fumble with the troublesome stand.

"Raph, don't just stand there – give me a hand with this thing, will you?" Leo said, frustratedly.

"Why? You're doing such a good job by yourself, Leo."

"'If we don't save every damn second' – remember that, Raph? _Your_ words," Leo said, his voice showing his irritation as he turned Raphael's own comment on the rooftop back at him. Raph's face darkened.

"Yeah, yeah. Gimme that – I'll take it," Raph replied – clearly annoyed at being brought to task. He tugged at the scarf tied around his neck irritably and wrested the stand from Leo's grip.

It had been necessary for them to venture out in daylight – and after their previous sojourn, Leo had insisted they go in disguise in case they were seen.

Raph _hated _human clothes and having to wear them was grating on his already raw and exposed temper. It was telling that Raph had chosen to wear Don's scarf in addition to his normal daylight attire.

Their return to the lair was silent – both of them buried in their own thoughts.

_How does Don cope with this bag around him all the time? These clothes are bad enough, but this bag – it's so cumbersome, it would drive me crazy. It's so…inhibiting_. Leo thought to himself. Regardless, on this occasion, the bag was somewhat of a comfort to him. It had even brought a smile to his face to see the junk that Don carried around with him all the time. Of course, to a non-genius it was junk – to someone like Don it was an escape route in the making.

_I'll break Bishop for this. I'll kick his shell for the pain he's put Don and Mikey through. I can't let that go, I can't let him hurt my family so badly. I can't let him just waltz in and leave this crap everywhere, so idiots like Mikey can find it and bring it home. _

_I…care about my brothers too much to let that go on._

_I want your support to go up against Bishop, Leo, but if I can't get it…_

_I'll just go ahead and do it without you._

Raph's thoughts were much more dangerous than Leo's, made all the more so by the pressing need to do something – _anything_, anything to stop the rising tide of dread that filled him, the horrible thought that Donny might not make it after all, the agony of realising a cure only to have the joy of that achievement snatched from them.

Those things combined did not bode well, and were driving Raph to the brink. He had always found his emotions difficult to handle – when his amphora was full, he just let it over-run; it had no lid, no overflow gauge.

His emotions were running high – and there was a crack in the lip of the amphora.

* * *

The Fugitoid was glad to see Leo and Raph as they entered into Don's room, immediately throwing off their human clothes in a corner. Raph kicked them distastefully.

"Just in time, I think," the Professor said as he led them towards the bathroom. Leo braced himself; doubtless, he would get a lecture for not going straight to bed, but if he could explain to his Sensei the importance of their mission and the reason for their disobedience, then…

"My son…" Splinter said as he and Raph approached, Leo still wearing Don's bag slung across his chest. Leo bowed immediately.

"I'm sorry, Master Splinter. I know you told us to rest, but Professor Honeycutt needed us to fetch some supplies for Donatello and I-"

"It is all right, my son. The Professor explained to me the need for the saline," Master Splinter said reassuringly. Leo nodded, and handed the bag of equipment to the Professor. He took the infusion stand from Raph and passed that forward also.

The pair of them watched forlornly as the Professor busied himself with needles and tubes and plastic bags full of fluid. Leo knelt next to Michelangelo, who had stoically refused to go and lay down, despite Master Splinter trying every trick in the book. He put an arm around his shoulders.

"Why are you still sitting in here, Mikey?"

"It's my fault Don's like this – I want to be with him," Mikey blurted. Whereas Raph would never admit to the emotions that boiled within him, Michelangelo offered them freely. Leo pulled him tighter.

"It's okay, Mikey. It's not your fault."

"No. It's _Bishop's _fault," Raph snarled. His sudden exhortation made the Fugitoid jump. Master Splinter turned to look at his most emotional son.

"Perhaps, Leonardo," he said, without taking his eyes from Raphael, "it is time you and Raphael retired to your beds, as we discussed."

"Yes, Sensei," Leo said, knowing that thirty-something hours of consciousness could undo even the greatest warrior. He bowed to his master, but was instantly distracted by the emotional outburst to his left.

"Donny's dying, and you want us to go to _bed_?" Raphael asked, his voice hard. Leo scowled immediately – he hadn't thought much of Splinter's request at first either, but having given it further thought, he could see the sense in it. There was little they could do – the Fugitoid was working on a more advanced cure and they could be roused if needed. It grazed him to think he would not be there at Donatello's side, but still, he metered his dislike of the request with the knowledge that he could be woken at any time.

"Nobody's dying today, Raph," Leo said, his voice firm.

"Well, shit Leo, there's always tomorrow, right? Or has that prospect changed, too?" Raph snarled. The Fugitoid piped up nervously,

"A-actually, A-210 does seem to have somewhat accelerated within Donatello's biochemistry."

The room seemed to grow darker all of a sudden.

"So you're saying we have less time?" Leo asked, his voice ending the silence like a hammer on glass.

"Y-yes. It's looking much more like fifty hours. That's just a projection, of course, I-"

"Fifty hours!? That's barely any time at all!" Raph snarled. He checked his watch, doing a quick calculation – but he wasn't as fast as the Professor.

"It means we only have around sixteen hours. Perhaps we should start thinking about…_palliative _care…" he said regretfully. Raphael bristled.

"What?"

"No, Professor. Nobody's dying today," Leo repeated, his fists clenched. "There won't be a need for…palliative care."

"What does he mean?" asked Mikey, worried.

"He means Donny's dying," Raph spat angrily. "And you still want us to go to bed, Leo?"

"It's Master Splinter's request, Raph! He's right; we're tired, and it makes no sense to-"

"Tired? Tired!? Do you think Donny's tired? Do you think maybe he's sick of being _sick_?!" Raph exploded, shoving Leo towards the doorway.

"Sleep!? I can't sleep knowing my bro's dying – can you, Leo? Can _you _sleep knowing that?!" Leo's expression blackened like loaded thunderclouds.

"You'll never know how I feel about it because unlike you, _I _can keep my temper! I can control my feelings when I have to! How is you acting like a hot-headed idiot going to help Donny?!" Leo snapped, his behaviour at odds with his words.

"I'm going to help Donny the only way I can – by going out and giving Bishop what he deserves!" Raphael yelled, shoving Leo again, pushing him right outside the room.

"You're not. Not this time, Raph. I'm not going to let you do what you want this time." Leo shook his head. Raph's hands immediately drove to his sai.

"You think you can stop me?"

"Well you sure can't go _through_ me." Leo's hands rested on his katana tsuka.

"Are you sure, Leo?" Raph grated.

Michelangelo cringed as Master Splinter leapt over his head. He had heard quite enough.

"My sons! Our enemy is already here among us! Stop this at once!" he instructed, his eyes flashing.

But neither of his sons heard him.

They were tired, and at their wits end. They were upset and emotional, angry and hurt, frightened and cornered and so, like wild animals, they took out their pent-up aggression on each other. Even the strong and proud Leonardo fell to this moment of weakness, this moment of bare-boned animal instinct. Raphael dived for Leo, really, _truly_ going for him, and Leo fought back with the same vulgar power. Their weapons crashed together as did they, their anger blinding them both.

"Yamete!" came Splinter's voice, but he may as well have not bothered.

Leo was partly called back from the brink by Mikey standing at the doorway to the bathroom and shouting,

"Stop it, you guys! You're not helping!" but all it did was put him off. Leo saw Raph's sai too late to defend – but in less than a second he saw his brother disarmed and Leo stopped dead as Raph was flung with full force across the room.

"I said '_yamete_'." Splinter's eyes were furious. Leo immediately threw his katana aside and went to his knees in deference to his father's command. For Raphael, the learning curve was sharper. He made the mistake of standing and in a second was once again on his carapace – this time with his father standing above him, a clawed foot on his plastron.

"Our enemy is here, among us already, and yet you two would fight over _nothing_?" Splinter said, his voice dark and full of warning. Leo didn't remember ever seeing his master so angry and he lowered his eyes, feeling his breathing speed up as terror rushed through him. He'd messed up – he'd messed up big time.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid – I let Raph get to me, what was I thinking?!_

_I…I _wasn't_ thinking… _

_M-my brain – something kicked in without me, I-_

_I lost control…_

"Kneel Raphael." Splinter instructed, taking his foot off his son's plastron. This time Raphael let himself be forced to his knees.

"Now. You are both to go to bed – immediately. No exceptions, no excuses. Have I made myself clear?" Splinters voice had lost some of it's edge, but it was nevertheless the voice of someone not to be disobeyed. Still unable to look up, Leonardo said,

"Yes, Sensei. I….I'm sorry."

Master Splinter did not respond, but carefully handed his son's katana back to him. He nodded as Leo stood, bowed and left the room.

Leo's hand flying to his eyes as he left did not escape his notice, either.

Splinter turned to his other errant son, who made no attempt to hide his tears. They were streaming down his face and he pushed his fingers into his eyes even as his Sensei spoke to him.

"Raphael… There will come a time when, if necessary, we will avenge Donatello. If, and _only_ if, the worst happens, _I _will lead you against Bishop – and we will achieve the revenge you so desire. I could not allow the death of a beloved son to go unpunished.

"But while there is breath in your brother's body, we will not leave him. We will not stop searching for a cure. We cannot allow ourselves, under any circumstances, to become divided - and therefore conquered." Master Splinter knelt before Raphael.

"Raphael, your love for your stricken brother is clear. But do not allow your anger and pain to bleed out and affect your other brothers. Leonardo is finding it just as hard to stand tall; he needs your support now, not your resentment."

"I-I know, Master… I'm…I'm _sorry_…" Raphael sniffed. Splinter patted his shoulder gently.

"You must rest, Raphael. It is likely that this incident would not have happened had you and Leonardo retired to bed when I asked you to do so." Raphael nodded. Master Splinter got back to his feet.

"Stand, Raphael."

Raphael crawled to his feet, a broken shell of his former self – all that remained of the anger that had broken free and become a fiend.

"I…I need some air…" Raphael said and stumbled towards the door. Mikey pushed himself off the doorframe and reached out, moving to follow his spiritually wounded brother. Splinter caught his hand in mid-air.

"No, Michelangelo. Let him go. He alone must battle his inner demon back into its cage."

Mikey turned back to Donatello, who was unaware of the rumpus that had taken place. The Fugitoid had remained with Don, nervously fidgeting with tubes and syringes until it was safe to leave for his makeshift lab in Donatello's bedroom.

"Come on, Don," Mikey said gently, taking up his place beside his brother again. "It's all going nuts without you." He looked at the tube which snaked into his brother's hand, and his instinct was to tear it out – but he couldn't and he knew it. It was there for good reason – it was buying Don time, and for that alone Mikey was grateful.

* * *

It was as much as Raph could do to keep himself on a straight path. He rested one hand against the wall of the sewer and pressed the other to his face.

_I really… I really meant to _hurt _Leo…_

_I…I couldn't control it…_

_Damn, I… I…_

_Could I really do that? _He held his hands out in front of himself incredulously.

_If I really lost it, could I hurt one of them?_

_Would I?_

Would I hurt one of them_?_

_What if it had been Donny?_

_He's the weakest fighter… _

_I could kill him._

Raphael felt sick. He wanted to be alone, didn't trust himself to be around his family, his brothers and yet the dread of loss still filled him - and he felt fear tighten around him like a python.

Eventually, he found himself in front of a back door in an alleyway, dark even in the early afternoon light and was knocking before he even knew for sure where he was. Eventually, the door opened and a familiar gentle voice said,

"Yes, who is it?"

"It's me, Mrs M. Raphael. Can…Can I come in?"

"Of course, Raphael. It's good to see you!" Mrs Morrison said, standing back and allowing Raphael to take her hand. "Or at least, hear you," she finished with a smile. Raphael led her back into the front room, and as he turned Mrs Morrison took both his hands in hers.

"Raphael, you're shaking. Is something wrong?"

"I'm… I'm kind of in trouble, Mrs M."

"Come, dear. Sit down. Tell me about it."

Mrs Morrison felt her way around the kitchen in order to make tea for herself and her guest. She even got out a packet of cookies and arranged them on a plate, bringing them back to the table. She found her way adeptly back to the tea mugs and walked them over to the table slowly, placing one down near Raphael.

"My…one of my brothers is sick," Raphael began, both hands on the floral bone china mug as he pulled it towards him. "I mean…really sick. He might die."

"Oh, Raphael. I'm so sorry to hear that." Mrs Morrison said sympathetically. She found his hand on the table and patted it.

"And… As if stuff at home wasn't bad enough, I just started a fight with one of my other brothers – Leonardo – and I really think that I… Our Dad was really mad and I… I'm tired, but I don't feel like I can go home just yet, I…

"I didn't… I..."

"Slow down, Raphael. Tell me the story from the beginning," Mrs Morrison said kindly. Raphael took a deep breath and relayed the much sanitised version of the last two days to his companion.

"Goodness." She sat back eventually and took a mouthful of tea before continuing. She put the mug back down on the table and said,

""Raphael… I'm sure Leonardo understands. He's probably just as upset as you are. When a member of your family is so ill, it's hard to keep a level head – especially among you boys."

"But, Mrs M… Leo _always _does," Raph replied, tapping the cookie in his hand against the mug.

"Well… It doesn't sound as though he did very well this time," she said. Raph looked up at her questioningly.

"You mean I'm not the only one who messed up?"

"Oh, I don't think you messed up. I think you were both hurting and I don't see that laying blame anywhere will help that.

"But I do think you both owe each other an apology."

"You got that right." Raphael gazed into the clouded teacup. "And we owe our brothers one, too."

"Yes. But first, I think you should get some rest. Call home to your family and tell them you'll be staying here with me. You might not feel you can go back yet, but you still need to rest. It's so long since you've slept."

"But I can't leave Donny, he doesn't have much time…" Raphael protested weakly. "And I can't impose on you any longer-"

"Nonsense. It's no trouble at all,

" Mrs Morrison reassured. "My sofa is yours for as long as you need it. I'm sure your father will let you know if anything changes. You can use my phone to call him, if you want. You can give him my number, too."

"No, it's fine, Mrs M. We have our own cell phones," Raph said, his hand on his shell cell.

* * *

_Thank you for reading so far - that's all for Chapter Four. Stay tuned – Chapter Five will be up in about a week! See you then (I hope ;)) :)_


	5. Chapter 5

_**

* * *

**_

Vile Vial

_**Disclaimer: **__**TMNT was created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. TMNT belongs to Mirage Studios. I am not making any money from this fic.**_

_Author's Note: Thank you all for reading so far! I've been really blessed to have so many positive comments, so thank you for reading, and I hope you continue to enjoy 'Vivi' :) Oh – and just so you know, there's one use of 'language'within._

_**Glossary**_

_Tsuka –handle_

_Sanzu River – in Japanese mythology, something akin to the River Styx_

* * *

_**Chapter Five**_

"I think I have an idea…" said the Fugitoid on his entry into the bathroom. Master Splinter looked up. He had managed to convince Mikey to lie down sometime earlier – and had asked Casey, on his return from getting the ice, to arrange something for him to eat. Mikey had complained of being hungry, and it was music to the Master's ears. It meant that his son really was getting better, clawing his way back to real life.

That was one thing that could certainly be said for Mikey – it was incredibly hard to keep him down. If you knocked him over, he would simply get back up again and again, never thinking about the consequences of not getting up, never thinking about even the possibility of not getting up, not thinking about the dark chasm that failure opened, hungry for his flesh.

No, Mikey was alone in that among his brothers. None of them would give up easily or without a fight that left them breathless and without strength, but when the strong fell, they fell hard - Master Splinter knew that. Mikey's rubber-tree strength was something that both buoyed Master Splinter and, occasionally, brought him to the edge of despair.

"Oh. I thought Michelangelo was still in here," the Fugitoid said, looking from side to side.

"No," replied Splinter. "You may find him in the front room."

"He might be able to help me with my plan," the Professor said keenly.

"Oh?" remarked Splinter, warily. It was his indication for the Fugitoid to continue. If the plan sounded too risky, he would veto it. The Fugitoid knew and understood this.

"You see, your sons have a very similar biochemical makeup. I would imagine this is because of the mutagen they were exposed to as babies and this may well be useful in curing Donatello.

"Michelangelo's body will have created powerful antibodies to defend his system from the virus by now, turning on it and destroying it. The cure didn't work on Donatello because his body was already weakened by the damage to his kidneys and the mutation of the virus, which resulted in the acceleration of it's life cycle.

"If I can produce a working serum from Michelangelo's antibodies, that may be the boost Donatello's system needs to start fighting the virus on an equal footing."

For the first time in hours, Splinter's heart leapt.

"And what will it be necessary for Michelangelo to do?" he asked, patting Don's forehead gently with one of April's facecloths.

"Only to give a little blood. It won't be enough to do him harm - and I can monitor his progress more efficiently at the same time," the Fugitoid replied, buoyed by his own plan. After a moment's pause, Master Splinter nodded.

"Please go to Michelangelo. I know he will be willing to help you if it will aid Donatello," he said, not taking his eyes off his desperately ill son.

April smiled wanly from the doorway. She had come from the front room, and Michelangelo's side. He had clearly been feeling better, as he'd challenged her to a game of 'Super Alien Attack Fighters' – which, Mikey had insisted, could be classified as resting because he didn't have to get off the sofa. She had grudgingly accepted his reasoning, but only because she was glad to see him so improved.

Only hours before he had been as stricken as Donatello currently was – and it was a pleasure to see him close to being his old self. Every now and then he would cough, or pull a pained face, or yawn tiredly but for the most part his worst symptom had been the near constant stream of old blood and gunk from his nose. In fact, several times he'd become so irritated with it that he'd created tissue plugs for his nostrils. The sofa had been covered in tainted tissue before long, so April had retrieved the bucket from Don's room and instructed Mikey to use it as a waste-paper bin – ready to burn the tissues as soon as the opportunity arose.

"Miss O'Neil… How is my son?" Splinter asked, aware of her presence since her arrival.

"Mikey's doing just fine, Master Splinter. He's recovering really well."

"Good. That is _very _good," he said. His voice showed how pleased he was, but it was laced with enduring concern for Donatello.

April approached and looked at her friend with ever-encroaching dread. He had worsened considerably since Leonardo had retired to bed, his breathing becoming more harsh, the blood more frequent and his consciousness less so. In fact, he had not come around at all in more than six hours. His temperature had not changed, but so elevated a temperature over such a long period had earlier resulted in a seizure, and it had been agony for the father to watch as his son was taken once again by the deepest, darkest throes of the illness.

"Come on, Donny. You have to keep fighting. Please keep fighting – don't give up," April said quietly. Master Splinter smiled wearily as he looked at her.

"I have said the same thing to him on a psychological level for all the past hours, Miss O'Neil. I can only hope that he hears me. That he will not break the heart of an old rat, his Master and Father. That he will not break the hearts of his brothers, for it is they who need him most acutely and who would most keenly feel his loss."

The two were silent, sitting beside their son and friend, the turtle who had advanced now from 'gravely ill' and arrived at the doorstep of 'dying'.

Eventually, April broke the quiet, interspersed only by the growling breaths of Donatello.

"How long has Leo been asleep?"

"Long enough I think, Miss O'Neil. Would you wake him for me? He will want to be with Donatello for as long as he can."

April nodded and stood.

* * *

"_Donny!?" Leo exclaimed, leaping out of the armchair he was sitting cross-legged in. He had been pouring over a well-loved copy of 'To Kill a Mocking Bird' and had thrown it down immediately as Donatello came into view. In motion now, unable to stop the thoughts and wishes behind his movements, Leo threw himself at Don and wrapped his arms around him._

"_It's so good to have you back! I thought… I thought you were…" he whispered, not willing to surrender his grip on his brother, whole in body and returned to him from the impossible shores of the Sanzu river._

"_It's okay, Leo. It's okay," Donatello replied, although his eyes were grey and clouded. Leo frowned with worry._

"_Are you sure you're all right?"_

"_I could… I could do with your help."_

"_Whatever you need," Leo responded, taking his brother's arm and leading him to the sofa. They sat down beside one another. Don looked exhausted, and Leo reached out to take his hand – and passed right through him._

"_What the-?!" Leo exclaimed. Don smiled weakly._

"_See what I mean?"_

"_But I touched you – I hugged you, and…" Leo trailed off. Don smiled weakly._

"_Yeah..._

"_I want to come back, but…_

"_I can't do this on my own."_

"_What can't you do?" Leo asked gently. _

"_I can't keep fighting on my own. I've never had to – I've always had you guys to watch my back. I don't want to fight alone, Leo."_

"_You're not alone – you're never alone, we're _always_ with you," Leo reassured._

"_Then where's Raph?" Donatello asked, and the pointed jab did not miss its mark. Leo looked away._

"_You need to make it up with Raph," Don said. "When I'm gone, there will only be three of you. It'll be hard on Mikey if-"_

"_Wait – when you're gone? What do you mean?" Leo interrupted. It was Don's turn to look away._

"_I don't have long."_

"_But I thought…" Leo said, and stopped, realising how foolish he sounded. Then, his face steeled._

"_Don – what if I could help you? What if I-"_

Leo's eyes snapped open and in less than a second he was on his feet, reaching for weapons that weren't on his back. April shied back, stunned.

"Leo! I-"

"April!" Leo stopped, lowering his hands immediately. He rubbed his face with one hand, feeling decidedly groggy.

"I'm sorry, April. What time is it?"

"It's all right; I should have known better than to wake a ninja by shaking him," she said, laughing nervously. "Nearly nine-thirty," she finished. Leo's heart fell through the floor

"In the evening?!" he asked, incredulously. April nodded.

"I've been asleep for more than _eight hours_!? Why didn't anyone wake me before?" he asked, jumping off the bed and heading straight for the door.

"How's Don?" he asked as April followed him. Her silence spoke volumes to Leo. He stopped in his tracks and turned, feeling nauseated.

"He's not…"

"No! No, Leo… But he's…

"It's probably best if you see him," she offered. Leo swallowed; now he _knew_ it was bad.

* * *

Leo's breathing paused as he hung in the doorway to the bathroom.

"Oh, Donny…" he said, every memory of the past days rushing back to him all at once. His brother's lips had curled back from his teeth in an unpleasant grimace, his body was broken-looking and weak, every inch someone who _wasn't _his beloved, brilliant, uniquely gifted brother.

"Leonardo. I am glad you are here," Splinter said, turning to face his son.

"Has the Professor not come up with anything, Master? Are we to sit here while Donny… while Donatello passes from our presence forever?" Leo forced, his emotion still only barely checked as he knelt beside the bath.

"He has a plan to use Michelangelo's antibodies in the new serum for Donatello," Splinter said. "Michelangelo is in the front room; the Professor has gone to ask for his help.

"Perhaps you should see him; he is doing very well.

"It may help you to fight a little longer, my son."

Leo was silent as he stood. Still finding it hard to locate words, he bowed and excused himself from the presence of his father, making his way to the front room – where he could hear the incidental music of 'Super Alien Attack Fighters' playing in the distance. The smile on his face felt strange after what he had just seen, but he didn't have the heart to deny it.

"Hey, Leo! The Professor thinks I can help Donny!" Mikey called, hanging over the sofa as Leo approached. He realised, with a pang, that he hadn't really spent any time with Mikey since he'd been administered the serum and had set off on the road to recovery.

"Yeah… Master Splinter said so," Leo said in his strongest voice. "What does he have to do, Professor?" Leo asked, turning to the Fugitoid.

"Well, I need to take some blood. I believe that Michelangelo's antibodies may be what Donatello needs to kick-start the serum that's already in his system."

"My anty bodies?" Mikey asked warily.

"Your _antibodies_ – the bits of you that are fighting off the infection," Leo explained, a gentle smile on his face.

"Oh, my _anti-bodies_… Yeah, well, I'm pretty anti-body right now myself - especially my nose, because it won't stop running!" Mikey sniffed and grabbed another handful of paper tissues.

"Get up, Mikey," Leo instructed, beckoning him forward. Mikey looked confused, but Leo merely said,

"C'mon, get up."

"Well, sure, but… I don't have anything worth having, unless you're going to steal my seat! And if-" But Mikey didn't get a chance to continue. Leo interrupted him by wrapping his arms around him in a bear hug. Mikey looked confused for a moment, but settled into the hold quickly.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Leo said. It was all he could do to hold back the tears. It was looking more and more like he would lose Donny – but at least Mikey would be safe, and Leo would never stop thanking the Gods for that.

"And we can fix Donny, right? Right Leo?" Mike's voice was quiet as he exposed the pain beneath the surface. He hadn't seen Donny the way he was now, hadn't seen the onset of the vacant face, hadn't seen the seizure, hadn't heard the rattle in his throat. Leo knew he was afraid to see him now, afraid that what he saw would be the last memory he held of his brother.

"We'll do everything we can, Mikey." Leo tightened his grip for a moment before he let go of his brother. Mikey sat back down – still weak - and exposed his arm to Professor Honeycutt.

"Take whatever you want. If it'll help Don, take all of it."

"Thankfully, that won't be necessary Michelangelo," the Professor said reassuringly, busying himself with various syringes as Mikey looked away, slightly more green than usual at the sight of a needle sticking out of his arm.

"Where's Raph?" Leo asked.

"He didn't come home yet," replied Mikey, still looking at a nondescript spot on the arm of the sofa. Leo's heart sank.

"He called in earlier to say he was safe, and that he'd be home in a few hours. That was a little while ago," Casey said, sitting in the chair nearest Mikey. "He said he's with…Mrs… Mrs M?"

"Mrs Morrison?" Leo offered. Casey nodded.

"Yeah! That's her!"

"Then he most likely _is_ safe," Leo concluded, satisfied for now. He turned back towards the bathroom and his rapidly fading brother.

Leo wasn't supposed to know about Mrs Morrison, but he knew that Raph occasionally went topside to visit an older lady who was blind. While she could hear Raph and sense him, she could not see him, and so showed no fear. She had sheltered him once, unknowingly, from a mob of alien-haters who had mistaken him for an invader. Since then, Raphael had gone topside to visit her on quiet days or when he found something particularly troubling.

Leo stood in the bathroom doorway, sick of making the same moves, doing the same things, to-ing and fro-ing without actually having any answers.

Despite his strong words, somebody _was _dying today, and Leo could only hope that the Professor's idea would work. Don was so low on time – it was going to be a very, very close call even if they succeeded. This was Don's last chance.

He sat down beside his Sensei, who was taking a precious moment to rest.

"I wish there was something I could do, Sensei. I wish I could let him know how hard we're fighting for him, how we're willing him to go on, encourage him not to give up, to keep him fighting to the… To the bitter end."

"Tell him so, Leonardo. Just speak. You may not remember, but we have been in such a position before. When we left New York after you were injured, you too were unresponsive – but you heard your brother's voices and it brought you home.

"While Donatello needs more than voices to return to us, it cannot hurt to tell him how you feel."

"I want to do more…"

There was a pause as Master Splinter turned over a thought in his mind.

"Perhaps you can, my son," he said thoughtfully. Leo looked confused.

"I don't understand, Master. What do you mean?"

"At this very moment, your brother is between this world and the next. It may be possible for you to trace him on the astral plane with your meditations."

"You mean – I might be able to-"

"It may be possible for you to support him there. You are at the limit of what you can do in our world, Leonardo – but there may be something you can do for him spiritually, even if there is nothing you can do physically."

"Tell me how, Master." There was no question to Leonardo; the slightest chance was worth taking, the least little lead worth following up.

* * *

Raphael opened his eyes blearily. For a moment, all was blissful ignorance. Then, all at once, the situation hit him like a brick. He leapt off the sofa, taking Mrs Morrison by surprise as she sat at the table in the front room nursing a cold coffee.

"Raphael! You're awake. You've been asleep for-"

"Mrs M! What time is it!?" Raphael interrupted, immediately heading for the door and resting his hand on the doorknob.

"I don't know… There's a clock above the sink in the kitchen." She said. "It's late, I know…"

Raph looked up and saw that the time by the kitchen clock was nine forty-five in the evening.

"Ahh, _crud_...! Mrs M, I've gotta go home!" he opened the door and slammed it behind him, not waiting for a response.

_Think, numbskull, think! How long has Donny got now?_

Raphael did some calculations in his still sleep-befuddled head.

_Oh God… Not even seven hours…_

_This can't be happening, this…_

_Maybe the Fugitoid has found the answer… Maybe I'll get home and Don will be sitting with Mikey on the sofa…_

He mentally slapped himself as he raised a manhole cover and slipped into the sewer system.

_Don't be an idiot. Raphael. You know life don't work like that._

_Just get home. That's all._

_Don't even let yourself have any ideas about hope or fairness._

_Shell, Donny's probably – _he derailed that train of thought instantly. It wasn't something even he was willing to accept yet. If he didn't think it, there was still the chance that it might not be true.

_Just get home_. Hefinished, climbing down an access ladder, deeper into the underground labyrinth.

* * *

Candles were lit all around the bathroom, casting a somewhat eerie glow over Donatello's face. Mikey sat by his side, relieving Splinter of his post. He'd made a fuss at first about being in close contact with the presence that hung around Donatello like a guillotine blade - until Leo had pointed out that Don had cared for him until he couldn't do any more and had not raised a single word of complaint. That appealed to Mikey's sense of duty and his protests were immediately silenced.

Splinter put the final stick of incense into the burner as his eldest son sat, in the lotus position, his head lowered, his eyes closed, concentrating his energies on his internal self.

"Good luck, my son. We will protect his body; it is up to you now to protect his spirit," Splinter said quietly. He waved his hand at the taper he held until the flame expired, and then sat down opposite Leo and closed his own eyes in calming meditation. He trusted his son implicitly - but it didn't hurt to be around in case he needed back-up.

* * *

"_Donny? Donatello! Can you hear me?!" Leo called desperately. The landscape was bare and sandy, the atmosphere misty and thick. It was like despair had descended; wherever this was, it was somewhere Leo had never encountered in his meditative travels. Even the very air was dark and foreboding. Leo swallowed, his nerves getting the better of him momentarily._

"_Don? Are you here?" He walked forward, following the receding light of the blood red sunset. _

_The truth took a little while to sink in. He didn't know where to even start looking for his brother. There was no-one around to ask, and the astral plane was a massive place, capable of being manipulated by powers greater and more experienced than his._

"_Donny? I'm going to find you and be with you – you have to hold on for me, okay?" Leo called, regardless of the heart that grew heavy in his chest. He stopped for a moment, afraid of this place and the grim semi-light that surrounded him. _

I've…never seen this before. I wonder…

_He stood still for a moment, his hand on his chin. _

The walls between both worlds break down for us when we're dying. It's part of what causes the 'near-death experience'. If Don's mental barriers have dropped, then maybe…

Maybe this world, this area of the astral plane, is his subconscious making it's mark, digging it's claws in. His last ditch attempt to stay alive – somewhere, if not in his body.

And… If I'm any reader of omens – that sunset is a bad sign. _Leo scowled. _

Okay, so… how do I find my way to him?

_Leo began walking._ _On the next hillock, he spied an immense wooded area, spreading as far as the eye could see. It cast a long, dark shadow towards him as the bleeding sun continued to set behind it. Even as Leo stood watching, the shadow lengthened. _

At a guess? He's somewhere in there.

That sounds about right; don't make this easy, will you Donny?

_Leo took a deep breath and leapt from the hillock, dropping ten feet and landing perfectly, one palm to the ground._

In I go, then,_ Leo said, and approached the forest carefully._

_Inside, it was darker even than it had seemed on the outside. Dark green and burnt sienna filled his vision – but it was somehow wrong. Leo was immediately distracted by something – a sound? No, that wasn't right, either. It wasn't a sound. You couldn't taste sounds – right?_

" _Oh, this is too weird…" Leo said to himself, finding his words turned back into tastes – and they were somewhat like broccoli. Leo pulled a face._

Ick. I think I'd better stick to thinking…

_But it wasn't that easy._

_It was all he could do to stand up. His senses were so turned upside down that he could barely walk. Every step initiated a taste in his mouth and as he drew his katana to hack through some foliage – or at least, what he thought was foliage – he could taste blood._

_He stopped immediately. _

This is nuts…

Sounds _do not_ have tastes, colours _do not_ have sounds.

Red _does not_ sound like glass breaking. That's just…wrong.

_He had been robbed of his senses before; Master Splinter often made them practice without one of their senses, and in Leo's case, he often deprived him of more than one – but to have no useable senses at all was purgatory. _

_He took another few steps forward, and faltered again. _

_The smells of the forest appeared in front of him; near the ground they were yellow, and as he looked further up from there they became green and eventually blue._

This must be what recreational drug-taking is like… _he thought to himself mournfully._

_It was only the years of intense training that stopped him falling into the pit trap laid before him. He felt his toes curl around nothing, as though all of eternity lay before him. _

_He felt his body tip forward and closed his eyes, letting his intricately trained instincts kick in. A second later, he was on the other side of the ditch, both swords at the ready._

That's it!

If my senses don't work, I'll have to rely on my instincts!

And…touch seems to work. Okay, let's see…

_Leo turned his mask so that his eyes were no longer able to see through the carefully cut holes. He dropped to his knees and felt around on the forest floor for something – anything – he could put in his ears to block out the raucous noise of the colours and in his nose to block out the cloyingly coloured scent of the forest floor. He laid a hand on some moss and thought it a suitable choice. It was…less than pleasant, but if it could get him through this bizarre area, it would be worth it._

The bigger picture, Leo, always think of the bigger picture…

_Blind and deaf and without the power of scent, Leo moved forward again, his mouth tightly shut and his katana at the ready. They pressed against something that resisted; it seemed to be a branch. He sheathed one of his katana and reached out to touch it, finding a tree's gnarled bough beneath his fingertips._

'Cut it'

_He paused at the sudden appearance of words in his head._

What the…?

That's not my-

'Cut it'

_The voice danced on the living edge of memory, familiar and yet strange._

'Please, Leo…

'Cut it…'

Don? Donny, is that…?

'Yes, it's me – cut it…'

_Without further question, Leo slashed through the branch easily with his katana._

'I thought… I thought you'd never hear me…'

I don't think I could hear anything over all those… colours? I'm really confused. What is this place, Don?

'I don't… I don't really know… I think _I_ made it…'

Well, it sure is complicated enough.

'Sorry…'

_Leo smiled._

It's all right.

_The voice in his head was silent for a moment._

'Turn left here'

_Without hesitation, Leo followed his brother's instruction. _

_Way back, back when they had been only tiny tots, one of the first things Master Splinter had taught them – even before they had begun any true ninjitsu training - was the group exercise of Trust Falls; an exercise which required you to fall blind into the arms of another and trust that they caught you. _

'_Remember –you must learn to trust your brothers above all else. They will be your guide when you are lost, your support when you are weak, fight your corner when you are in danger. You must trust them, and those who have trust placed in them must never, ever break it.' He had said._

_Don and Leo had been the fastest to conquer this exercise. Mikey trusted too quickly, and Raph not quickly enough. _

'Turn right. There's a branch blocking your path… You can cut through it…'

_The longer the sentence, the weaker Don's voice became in Leo's head. _

I'm coming, Don. I'm not going home without you. _Leo's voice supplied no option for compromise._

_It felt like it took forever to navigate the forest. Whether this was because it was a lengthy process, or whether it was due to the bastardisation of Leo's sense of time he wasn't sure – but it made him antsy. He was painfully aware of the importance of time and how little sand was left in the top bulb of Don's hourglass back in the real world._

'…eep…w..king…'

Don! I'm losing you! _Leo's heart sank. Mentally he grabbed out and held on to the voice, trying to keep it with him._

'I…I c…n…Losi…c…nnection…

'…Hurry… Leo,'_ and the last words were like a beacon in his mind, stretching across the sea to the oncoming ship._

_Not only did his trained and sharply honed instincts for battle kick in, but his fraternal instinct now too, the all-overpowering need to get to a brother in pain, in suffering, to cease the cause and take what was his back from the brink._

I'm coming! _Sheer bloody-minded instinct slashed through the next branch, tore at the next bramble, drove him over the next ditch. And now, the call was louder than ever-_

'Leo!'

_Mentally deafened by the clarity of the cry, Leo tore off his mask, ripped out the moss and stood, aghast at what he saw._

_He could barely see Donatello beneath the claw of the immense black bird that filled his vision. The forest was gone, in the distance behind him - but before him was an awe-inspiring behemoth of a creature._

_At least, it would have been awe-inspiring – had it not been pecking at Donatello's shell like an almighty woodpecker. _

_Leo didn't need to see more before he started running, his hands on his katana tsuka. Don was forced onto his front, the weight of the enormous crow on his back as much as he could stand. His face wore a look of agony which became painfully clear to Leo as he approached. The crow didn't even look up; it continued to peck at Donatello as though he were a snail. _

_The monstrous crow had already worried a tiny hole in Don's shell, which was tainted with blood. If Leo had been able to restrain himself before, there was no way he could hold back after seeing that. All the pent-up worry and anger and pain and hatred forced it's way out of Leonardo all at once, erupting in an almighty cry, simple but burning in it's intensity; _

"_Get away from my brother, you _bitch_!"_

_He leapt high up in the air, not reaching the behemoth's head, but kicking repeatedly at its chest. His feet met hard feathers, like steel plate. Rethinking in mid-air, he turned, drew his katana and slashed at the creature, splitting and maiming it across the length of it's chest._

_Its scream was like nothing he'd ever heard, but the bird did what Leo had hoped it would; it took it's claw off Don._

_Leo's landing was perfect, and without a second's thought, he dragged his brother away from the now stamping feet of the gigantic, vile form before them. He turned him over instantly and drove his shoulder up behind his carapace, forcing him to sit upright against his chest. Don's head lolled disturbingly against his shoulder, into his neck. _

_Leo crossed his katana before his brother's body and growled to the bird,_

"_I dare you… I _dare_ you to come and do that now…" _

_The bird snapped it's beak at Leo threateningly._

"_Mine… My prey… Mine…"_

"_No. Wrong. _Mine_," Leo snarled in response._

_The crow stepped back and beat its wings, the all-pervading stench of rot in the air circulating around it. Leo held tight to his brother and put his head down, trying to keep the sudden whirlwind of sand and grit out of their eyes with an outstretched arm._

"_I'll do you a deal," Leo growled as the wind died down. "You want him? You come get him. Because I'll only let you _take him_ over my _dead body_. And I'm one hard kill." _

"…_Leo…"Don uttered, his eyes flickering open. "Don't…don't taunt it…"_

"_Don! You okay?" Leo asked. For the first time he noticed the bonds around Don's wrists and ankles. They shimmered eerily; made of no substance Leo could identify, he tried to snap them with his katana – but they held fast and strong._

"_I've…tried everything…" Don whispered. Leo bolstered him up and whispered gently,_

"_But _we _haven't tried everything. You and me, we'll take this thing down. Between us._

"_Just don't go anywhere, okay?"_

_Leo gently lowered his brother to the ground and placed himself before him, both katana raised. The crow put it's head to one side and clicked it's beak menacingly._

"_Come on then, birdie. Let's _dance_," Leo snarled._

* * *

Thank you for reading Chapter Five! We're at the half way point now – hopefully I'll see you in around seven days!:)


	6. Chapter 6

_**Vile Vial**_

_**Disclaimer: **__**TMNT was created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. TMNT belongs to Mirage Studios. I am not making any money from this fic.**_

_Author's Note: Thank you all for reading so far! Hopefully you won't be going anywhere – the adventure part of the fic will be on the way soon!:)_

_**Glossary**_

_Tsuba – hand guard_

_Kiai – 'Cry of the Spirit'_

* * *

_**Chapter Six**_

"Master Splinter! Master Splinter, I-" Raph stopped running as his sensei opened an eye and immediately shushed him. Raphael continued his entrance to the room more quietly. As he glanced around he saw the incense and candles, and they disturbed him. He dropped to his knees in deference before his Sensei.

"Master – Donny's not…?"

Then he heard the sounds of Donatello's breathing; the raucous clatter in his throat. He felt as though he would be sick.

"…Death rattle…" he said. His own breath hitched.

"Does it hurt?" he asked his father. Splinter shook his head.

"Only to hear," he said, weakly. "He is held in the delicate balance between life and death. Your brother Leonardo has gone on a quest to search for his spirit – to buy him time while the Professor prepares the serum made from Michelangelo's antibodies."

"A real… family affair, huh?" Raphael swallowed the pain he felt at his own ridiculous powerlessness. Splinter leaned forward and put his hand on his son's.

"But you are here, Raphael. Donatello would appreciate your presence.

"All we can do here is hope and pray that Leonardo is able to grasp your brother's weakened spirit in his strong hands." Splinter once again closed his eyes. Behind Raphael, the Fugitoid slipped into the room.

"The serum is ready," he said, quietly.

"Please, Professor. Do as you must," Splinter said, without opening his eyes. Raphael was the only one who watched as the serum was administered to his dying brother. Michelangelo was too squeamish; watching would have raised his hopes and he wasn't sure he could cope with them being dashed to pieces.

Raphael looked back to Leonardo, who sat, unmoving, surrounded by candles. The warm light lit up his face – it should have been peaceful, but instead it was wrapped in concentration. A thin sheen of sweat coated his brow.

_You can do it, Leo. If…if anyone can do it, you can… _Raphael thought to himself, silent in his honest belief.

"Master?" Raphael's voice was weak.

"Yes, my son?"

"Would you mind if… If I meditated with you?" Raph asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. Splinter opened his eyes in surprise. Of all of his sons, Raphael was the one least likely to ask such a thing. He smiled, and the cynic in Raphael dismissed the tears in his father's eyes.

"Of course, my son. It would give me great pleasure."

Mikey put his palm on Don's forehead and closed his eyes. If everybody else was meditating, and there was the hope it might do some good, why couldn't he?

Raphael sat silently and crossed his legs, assuming the same position as Leo.

_Don't be hoggin' all the glory now, bro._ he thought to himself before reticently letting his conscious mind break away from his body.

* * *

"_That was a lucky break!" Leo snapped, shaking his arm. Blood spattered the ground around him as he did so, the laceration deep and hungry in his shoulder. He was tiring; now he understood how hard things had been for Donatello, how hard he had fought before the bird had pinned him, before the virus had wound it's way around him, drawing him in, poisoning him, weakening him in it's vile grasp._

_Leo afforded himself a glance at his brother; Don was now on his knees, breathing hard but on his knees. It was one step up from prostrate on his side, as Leo had left him. It bolstered Leo, renewed his hope._

"_Come on then!" he yelled, leaping again at the bird. Turning in mid air, he landed on its mammoth shoulders; the furthest he had been able to get so far. Putting one katana between his teeth, he buried the other to the tsuba in the bird's shoulder. _

_If Leo thought he'd heard it scream before, he was mistaken. _

_It threw it's head wildly around, tried to peck him off like a tick, tried everything to get rid of the pain in it's shoulder – but Leo was having none of it._

_He had two whole days of pain to give it back, all at once._

_Grabbing the other katana, he drove it to the tsuba into the bird's shoulder – higher this time. It shrieked and shrieked, taking to flight in its agony. With one almighty tug, Leo removed the first katana and drove it in again, hanging from his loyal blades, creating a walk of pain up the shoulder of the beast._

_Looking down, Leo suddenly saw the earth below getting further and further away._

Okay, so I wanted it to leave Donny alone – but this isn't quite what I meant!

_His hand tightened on the blood that coated the handle of his katana; they were designed in such a manner. The more bloody they got, the easier they were to grip._

_He could feel the wind around him, smell the stench of death that covered the immense bird, see the black and bloodied feathers as they split away and sped to the ground below._

_Then he heard a cry he'd recognise in his sleep; in battle; near death – anywhere._

_Donatello's kiai. _

_Suddenly, Don's bo came flying past his own shoulder and hit the bird square in the beak. Leo would have laughed if he hadn't been so far above ground. The bird dropped out of the sky like a bomb, its consciousness temporarily taken. Not wishing to crash-land with it, Leo pulled both katana out of it's shoulder and jumped away from it. For a moment there was just blissful nothingness around him and then, as the bird started to turn in the air, Leo bounced off it's head and aimed for the ground – he was easily twenty feet above it, but for a practiced ninja this was nothing._

_Don caught his bo as it fell back down to earth – and dropped to his knees. All that, Leo realised, and still with his hands bound at the wrist._

_His brother was not known to be an expert bo wielder for nothing._

"_I'm glad you're on my side, Donny!" Leo yelled, coming back to ground zero – which was wherever his brother happened to be. Don's breath was short, and Leo put a hand on his chest worriedly._

"_S'fine…" Don forced. "It…felt good…" He forced himself to his feet and Leo had one more try at removing the bonds that ensnared his brother as the bird crashed to the ground behind them, still squealing. Despite his best efforts, he still could not remove the ties. _

"_Dammit!" Leo cursed, still urgently trying to remove them until Donatello said, his eyes fixed on a point beyond Leo's shoulder,_

"_Uh, Leo… The bird…!"_

_Leo turned instantly and saw the bird bearing down on them, merely feet away – and in a split second had rammed his katana upwards and through the top of the bird's beak as it came searching for a quick kill. Its breath was rancid and it was the best Leo could do to tangle with it at this angle. It's mouth forced open, the crow cried,_

"_Why!? Why do you do this!?" the voice seemed to bypass the turtles' ears and go straight to their minds._

"_Why? You dare ask me _why_?!" Leo gritted his teeth and pushed harder. "Let me tell you why, seeing as you want to know so badly! Because _this_ is my brother!" He indicated Don with a flick of his head, "And no matter where he goes, or where I am, I'll be there for him! Come Hell or come high water, come fire, come snow, come hail, come death and destruction, I will be there! I will be there _beside him_! Until I'm dust in the wind I'll protect him – __and I don't plan on that happening for a long, long time!"_

"_Leo…" Don's voice was weak. Leo grabbed his second katana and jammed it in next to the other, resulting in another agonised cry from the vast bird._

"_And so, you see, I chased him here… To bring him back… and found _you_ had him…_

"_Well, that was your first mistake. But don't worry – it'll also be your _last_!" he twisted both of the katana hard, snapping one blade off just above the tsuba. He swore, but Donny was more than worth the loss of a sword. The bird seemed to find a new wind and, glancing at Leo with its beady black eyes, it made to shut it's beak down on the remaining katana and the broken blade – planning to take Leo's hands with it._

"_Oh no you don't!" Donatello growled and, quick as a flash, rammed his bo into the open beak, forcing it wide. There was the unpleasant crack of dislocation, and the bird screamed. Don's legs faltered again, and he reached out for Leo's arm to steady himself. Like a rock, Leo was unmoving, easily able to steady his brother. He turned to look at him, and was warmed to see that his breathing was improving, his face less pale. He was still bothered by the bonds, but didn't have time to think about it as the dying bird came back for one last shot. _

_Leo's attention was lost, still on his weakened brother – but Don's attention was on the bird. Before he could speak, Don pushed his brother out of the way of the careening creature, grabbing his bo with both hands, even as it remained jammed into the broken and useless beak._

"_No!" snapped Don. "Like Leo said – not on _my_ watch!" he yanked the bo down and to the side – hard. There was a horrible crack as the immense creature turned strangely in the air and crashed to the ground, twitching uselessly. It spasmed, spat blood and fell still. _

_Don dropped to his knees, hands still gripping the bo tightly. He was shaking as Leo knelt behind him, strong hands on still weak shoulders. _

"_You did it…" he said gently. As they watched, the bonds around Don's wrists and ankles disintegrated away, disappearing into the dirt and sand before their eyes. Don still wouldn't let go of his bo._

"_You came all this way… To help me slay my demon…" Don said quietly. "I was going to ask you why, but… It seems silly now. You-you've already said…" Leo stood on his knees and wrapped his arms around his brother's neck from behind. _

"_I'll _always_ be here to help you slay your demons. Except when you're helping me to slay _mine_._

"_Are you okay?" he asked gently. Don nodded._

"_Whew. Yeah, I-I'm okay. I'm tired, but… I'm fine. Everything's going to be okay…"_

* * *

Raphael's eyes snapped open. He reached out for Mikey immediately, who blinked and turned to his brother.

"What?" he asked, irritably. Raphael shushed him.

"You hear that?"

There was a pause.

"No?"

"Me either," Raphael replied. Mikey scowled and pulled the blanket he was wrapped in tighter.

"Is this one of those trick questions? Because if it is, I-"

"No, bonehead, it's not. Listen to Donny's breathing."

For a moment, they both did that same thing – listened hard. Gone was the rattle, gone was the snake in Don's throat – his breathing was clear and good and wholesome once more.

_God, Leo… Did you do it?_

_Did you actually do it? _Raph thought to himself incredulously.

Seconds later, there was a gasp in the corner. Raphael was on his feet in a second, and he caught Leo as he fell forward, coughing up a lung.

"Leo! You okay?" Raphael's brow furrowed in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine…" Leo said breathlessly, his Master also now kneeling before him. He sat back, rubbed his face and took a deep breath.

"How's Don?" he asked.

"I don't know who did what, but his breathing's a lot better now. Professor Honeycutt gave him the serum about four hours ago – you've been under for what, five, maybe?" Raphael asked. Leo sighed and, feeling drained, asked,

"Could somebody please get me some water?"

Raphael patted his sibling on the shoulder and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. Leo looked into his Master's eyes. Splinter smiled and lowered his head.

"My son… It would seem that you have more strength than even I give you credit for. Your love for your brothers is your beacon, and will be your legacy." He bowed over his fists to his son, and Leo, still breathless, returned the show of respect.

Leo glanced over at Donatello – still breathtakingly ill and yet with life in his expression for the first time in hours. And Leo - having fought at his side, having raised him from the ground, having taught him to stand again - finally felt once more the hope that had left him just a few hours before.

As Splinter extinguished the candles around Leo with a finger and thumb, Mikey started in his seat. He dropped down, hands gently placed on both sides of Don's head.

"Donny?" he asked, softly.

There was a sound – a croak, a weak noise of little substance – but it was a response, an answer made by a sentient creature, weak but of the utmost importance; music to the ears of the family around him.

"Don!" exclaimed Leo, and practically flew to his side.

His brother's bleary eyes opened a crack and he took a deep, juddering breath. It sounded as though he were using parts of his lungs that had lain dormant for hours as he filled them. They still sounded coated in dust as he breathed out – and coughed. At that moment, Raphael returned to the room with the glass, his eyes wide. Leo took the glass meant for him from Raph's hand and prepared to provide it to Donatello, helping Mikey raise him into a near-sitting position even as he coughed.

"Easy now, Donny… Easy…" Leo said gently, pressing the glass to his brother's lips and encouraging him to drink. He choked on the first sip, so Leo took the glass away, waited for him to recover and tried again. This time Don managed a few mouthfuls before pulling his head away.

"Okay…" Leo put aside the glass, his own thirst utterly forgotten. Don blinked, his vision still slightly skewed.

"Leo…" he croaked, reaching a shaking hand out to his brother. Leo caught it deftly, and replied,

"I'm here Donny, I'm right here…" His eyes filled, unbidden, and he pressed his face into the crook of his arm for a moment, allowing the passing tears to flee into the protection of his mask.

"Damn… Donny… Way to scare a guy…" Raph said, drifting to his knees beside Leo. Doubtless, the area surrounding the bath was getting crowded. Master Splinter wiped tears from his eyes silently, and Mikey made no secret of his.

"Whassit?" Don asked, his voice slowly returning, even if his ability to speak was a little scratchy.

"Don't worry about it… Just don't worry about it…" Leo said, reaching out and rubbing his brother's forehead fondly with his free hand.

"S'cold…" Don said. Immediately there was a flurry of activity around the bath as the three capable brothers fussed with towels and raising their sibling from what they had feared would be a white enamelled tomb. He was quickly raised up onto Raph's back and the turtle walked quickly through to the front room and lowered his brother to the sofa, in mimicry of the actions he had taken earlier with Mikey. Mikey kept the pace behind Raphael with the wheeled infusion stand.

Leo dried Don off as best he could with the towels, while Mikey hung around awkwardly and Raph went to retrieve the blanket from Don's bed. Leo took the blanket from Raph upon his return and wrapped it around the tired turtle before him. He could barely keep his eyes open and Leo sat on the sofa, put two cushions in his lap and encouraged his brother to lay down, head on the cushions. It eased his breathing to lay down; he was still exhausted, and sitting up was making it harder for him.

Don followed his brother's gentle instructions blindly. Leo put his hand on his shoulder and rubbed gently as Don's hands instinctively reached out for the corners of the blanket and pulled it tighter. Once his eyes closed, he was gone; handed over in entirety to the tender arms of sleep. His body demanded rest; it was tired of it's suffering and now that the danger had passed, it was determined to have it's way.

Leo watched as he slept peacefully, not removing his hand from his shoulder. After a little while, Raph said,

"Is it safe to breathe now?"

"Yeah… I think it is," smiled Leo. Mikey sat on the arm of the chair beside Leo.

"Anyone for a game of 'Super Alien Attack Fighters'?" he asked, taking up the console controller. Raphael stalked forward and snatched the controller from him. He raised his hand to give him the customary slap, and Mikey cringed, ready to receive it – but Raph held back.

"You're going to bed, Mikey. You need _sleep_. And if you need a hand with that, I'll be happy to help." Raph raised his hand again and Mikey winced.

"Leo! Raph's picking on me! I'm sick; he's not allowed to pick on me when I'm sick!" Mikey whined. Leo rolled his eyes.

"Raph, don't beat on him. Not tonight." There was a quiet joy in Leo's words. Not tonight. Not when they had been given their family back. Not when they were complete once more. Not when their future still lay before them like an ocean of uncharted waters. Raph sighed and tugged gently on Mikey's mask tails instead – he'd put it back on earlier after April had given it a good wash for him.

"Go on, laughing boy – bed," Raph said, giving Mikey a mild shove.

"I don't want him in that high bed or that dirty nest tonight, Raph. Put him in my room," Leo called as they left.

As it was, April and Casey were asleep in Raph's room. They too had experienced a couple of exceptionally long days. April had refused to leave her friends when they were in need, and Casey had also been very reticent about leaving them unprotected in their time of disadvantage.

They had finally decided to share Raph's room – the only room left untouched by carnage of some kind; although Raph's room could be considered carnage by itself. April had taken the hammock and Casey was sleeping on the ground below. April had raided her blanket store when she had gone back to the apartment for more towels and they both lay covered in warm, fleecy coverlets.

Raphael peered in as he returned from forcing Mike to do as he was told and go to bed and saw them both sleeping.

Sneakily, he crept up beside Casey and whipped off the bedcovers. Wide eyed and shocked, Casey looked up at Raph as he stood, chortling to himself.

"C'mon, up and at 'em, sunshine. Danger's over. You _missed_ it."

"Raph…" Casey said, sitting up. April peered down at Raphael as she learned over the side of the hammock.

"Donny… Is he okay?" she asked, worry on her upside-down features. Raph nodded.

"Yeah. He's gonna be okay."

April wept and reached out to put her arms around Raphael's neck - leaning a little too far out of the hammock in the process.

"Oop!" she exclaimed, tightening her grip around Raph's neck as her feet crashed into Casey's groin. Raph laughed as he heard a hideous moan from somewhere underneath April's legs.

"Oh, Casey, I'm so sorry!" April's hands went to her mouth as she let go of Raph and jumped off Casey. He folded instantly, hands between his legs, tears in his eyes. There were tears in Raph's eyes too, although in his case it was because he was laughing so hard.

* * *

Although Leo could distantly hear the sounds of Raph laughing and Casey groaning, he just smiled.

He'd taken normality for granted.

He'd missed normality. He and Raph hadn't had a normal relationship for some weeks, and at the back of his mind was the concern that the animosity would return between them.

But for now… Just for now, he was able to take peace from the tranquillity around him. That in itself was an indication of the absence of normality – but at least Leo knew where everybody was. Don shifted next to him in his sleep, and Leo raised his hand from his shoulder to give him free reign to move.

Normality – _his_ normality, the normality of his family – was a nice place to be.

Master Splinter entered quietly behind Leonardo. Leo heard the stick tap the concrete immediately behind him and he looked up. His Sensei said nothing; he was merely smiling at his two sons on the sofa.

"We sent Mikey to bed, Master Splinter. It's too late for him to be up. He's still not well."

"Indeed, my son. I suspect that your brothers may not be fully recuperated for some time."

"But they will be, eventually. And Raph and I will be here to help them."

Master Splinter did not respond at first. He walked around the sofa and sat in the chair beside it.

"About that, my son…"

"I know, Master. I'm sorry." Leo lowered his head, fiddling with the edge of Don's blanket. "I lost control. It won't happen again, I'll make sure of it."

"You need to be sure it does not, Leonardo. You know as well as I do that your level head is needed to get through to Raphael. If he drags you down with him, then you and all your brothers are lost.

"It is up to you to be the light in their darkness, it is up to you to guide them through their bleakest times."

"Yes, Master." Leo's hand gripped the blanket.

"I know that you rely on Donatello also – and that his absence was a great weight on your shoulders."

"Yes, Master. It was. More than I realised," Leo replied, a sigh in his voice.

"Nevertheless… Despite that, you and Raphael worked well enough together to help bring your brothers back from the grip of death – and in that, I will ever be proud." Leo looked up and noticed the smile on the old rat's face.

"Thank you, Father," he said, a tired smile ghosting his own facade. Splinter nodded.

"And yet, you are tired from your spiritual battle. Your bodies are strong and experienced – but your minds are not quite so well trained. You must return to your bed, my son," Splinter said, noticing the weariness that surrounded his eldest son.

"I can't. I asked Raph to put Mikey in my bed," Leo answered, a little sheepishly. "It's okay. I'll sleep here with Don.

"He needs someone to watch over him."

Master Splinter did not offer a response to the contrary. Instead, he nodded and stood. His gaze paused on the catheter embedded in Donatello's hand. Leo had deliberately ensured that Don's left hand stayed exposed, so that the needle-tip of the cannula didn't travel and do unnecessary damage.

"I will be happy when that thing can be removed," Master Splinter said, his voice low.

The professor's voice was quiet in deference to the scene before him as he entered the room, still carrying hypodermic syringes.

"We will need to keep him attached to the IV for tonight – to protect his kidneys," Professor Honeycutt said, kneeling beside Donatello and claiming a blood sample. Leo frowned, his concern clear.

"How bad do you think the damage is, Professor?"

"I'm afraid I don't know. I need to do some more blood tests before I can tell for sure – and we have to see how he reacts to nourishment. We won't know that until tomorrow."

Leo fell silent again, unconsciously rubbing Don's shoulder gently. He was surprised when Master Splinter put a hand on his head gently. He looked up.

"We have done all we can do for tonight, Leonardo. We have been given respite. We will look into the potential damage more closely tomorrow but for now, we must sleep."

"Yes, Master Splinter," Leo said gently. The Fugitoid took his leave silently. Leo heard his master leave the room also, and found himself alone with his sleeping brother.

Leo stroked his brother's forehead gently, not raising even the slightest movement from the fatigued turtle. He smiled gently, revelling in his presence. He might not have been much company at that time, but the fact that he was still there, still near, still breathing, filled Leo with more joy than he'd thought possible.

Even he had been at the point of surrender. Even the turtles' mighty and illustrious leader had been afraid of what had felt like the inevitable.

Even Leo had been afraid to hope.

With his hope and his heart handed back to him, he sighed happily and closed his eyes.

* * *

Raphael was the first to awaken the next morning. He opened his eyes blearily, barely recognising the ceiling of Mikey's room.

Sleeping arrangements had become quite confused the night before. April and Casey had stayed the night, still one in the hammock and one nervously on the floor - making his room out of bounds. Leo had insisted on Mikey sleeping in his bed, and had himself slept with Don on the couch in the front room.

Nobody had the heart to sleep in Don's room; it was still carnage and the Professor had remained in there, studying blood samples and making notes.

In fact, thought Raph as he climbed out of Mikey's bed, the only person who had not been displaced was Master Splinter.

His trip to the bathroom was fast; it still contained the coppery smell of illness and blood as everybody had been too soul-tired to bother cleaning it up the night before.

Raph was silent as he entered the front room on his way to the kitchen and found himself gazing at his two sleeping brothers on the couch. Leo was upright, head rested on the back of the couch, mouth open. A delicate snore indicated still deep sleep and Raph grinned, making a mental note to rib him about it later.

Don's head was still on the cushions in Leo's lap and but for the gentle motions of breathing, it looked as though he probably hadn't moved all night.

Raph moved on to the kitchen pretty quickly, preparing himself a bowl of cereal and coming back into the front room with it. Quietly, he sat down in the chair beside the TVs and munched on his breakfast.

He felt a small furry creature at his ankles as he made to drain the last of the milk from the bowl.

"Mew?"

"Ahh, Klunk," Raph sighed and instead of drinking the milk, put the bowl on the floor for the pushy kitten. "You're just as greedy as Mikey."

He gave that comment a moment's thought and continued,

"And I'm a mug just for giving you that.

"I must be in a good mood."

Klunk merely purred into the bowl, the sound of his slurping noisy in the quiet of the lair.

"Hhmsk!" said Leo suddenly, his head flying up from the back of the sofa. He turned to his brother, fixing Raphael with disoriented eyes.

"It's all good, Fearless Leader. Go back to sleep," Raph grinned.

"'m not tired.

"Is it morning already?" Leo asked, rubbing his eyes with one hand.

"DVD player says so. Nine-forty-seven. Master Splinter must still be asleep; he'd have had us up by now if not," Raph replied, nudging Klunk away from the breakfast bowl and picking it up.

As he had been all night, Leo was carefully aware of the presence of his sleeping brother at his side. Despite not moving at all, Don's presence had woken Leo periodically during the night, and the older brother had felt the need to check on him at every such opportunity. Every chance taken had resulted in the reassurance that his brother was fine – merely sleeping.

Even the current check revealed the same thing – sleep, and nothing more sinister.

Leo smiled softly.

"I wonder how long he'll sleep for?" Raph pondered, to no-one in particular. Leo shrugged.

"Perhaps the Professor will know."

They were quiet for a moment, satisfied by the near-silence. Eventually, Leo turned to face Raph once more.

"Raph… Yesterday was…a really bad day."

"Yeah. No kiddin'." Raph stood, holding the bowl in one hand.

"No. I mean… What I'm trying to say is…

"I'm sorry."

Raphael cast his eyes to Leo. It occurred to him how vulnerable he looked, with Don's head in his lap and sleep in his eyes.

"Don't worry about it," he replied. "I was in the wrong, too. I shouldn't have attacked you – I'm…

"Yeah." Raphael turned his head, unable to say the word that danced on the tip of his tongue. Leo shook his head in turn.

"No, I mean it. _I'm_ sorry. I let the situation get to me, and I shouldn't have. Then… I let _you_ get to me – and I shouldn't have.

"I lost control."

Raphael sat back down and sighed,

"That's the thing with you, Leo. You've _always _got to be in control. Sometimes you've got to accept that there's stuff you _can't_ control."

"I _can't_ accept that. When my family's lives are in danger, I _have_ to control the situation. There's no other way." Leo shook his head.

"Leo… We'll probably never know what brought Donny back to us – whether it was you or the serum – but there's one thing I do know.

"Without the Professor, Donny and Mikey would…" Raphael trailed off. "They wouldn't be here.

"By the time we'd have come back with the information in Bishop's computer, Donny wouldn't have been able to use it – and that's even if we could have figured a way to get it to him without being exposed ourselves.

"We wouldn't have been able to come down here and do what little we did. You couldn't have done your mind meld bit and… realistically…

"We'd be looking at two dead brothers."

"But we're not," Leo said defensively.

"I know, Leo. What I'm saying is, at which point were we in control of the situation here?"

"We…we weren't," Leo acceded.

"Exactly my point," Raph said, standing once more. Without another word, he walked out to the kitchen, leaving his brother to think deeply about his decidedly needle-sharp point. Unconsciously, Leo protectively tugged Don a little closer.

* * *

Early afternoon settled in gently, and by then every member of the household was up – except Donatello. Leo's worried frown had returned and, intent on following the Professor's instructions, he was preparing to get Donatello up and conscious.

"Don…?" he shook his brother gently. Then, deciding that gently probably wasn't going to do it, he called a little louder and shook a little harder.

"Don!" Leo called. His brother's eyes snapped open – and they quickly closed again as he grimaced.

"Whmskshouting…ow…" he said, forcing his eyes open again, but only a crack. He found himself looking into Leo's worried features.

"'Ow' what?"

"Just…ow…" Don said, as Leo helped him into a sitting position. He winced a bit, but not as much as he did when Mikey threw himself on the couch beside him and flung his arms around him.

"Donny! Dude, am I glad you're all right!"

"Are you?" Don asked, bewildered and with one hand to his head. Leo looked cross.

"Mikey! I'm glad you're feeling better- but can't you sit still for even a minute? Give Don a second to come around, can't you?"

"Aww!" Mikey pouted.

"Sorry, Don… You know how Mikey is," Leo said, by way of an apology. Don found himself looking bewilderedly at the cannula in his hand. The professor had removed the catheter that morning, but had left in the cannula in case he needed to re-administer it.

"Why's this here?" he said weakly, prodding it gingerly.

"How much do you remember?" Leo asked gently, kneeling on the floor with his hands on Don's knees.

"I don't…" Don looked confused as he tried to grab ahold of his blurry, corrupted memories. Suddenly his expression changed.

"I remember that Mikey was sick…" he said, reaching out for Mikey suddenly as the emotion of the memory took him over. He grabbed Mikey's arm and took him by surprise. "And _I_ got sick, too…" he continued, almost as an afterthought. Mikey sat closer to Don and pulled the blanket he was tangled in further up around his chest.

Well, I guess that covers it in a nutshell," Leo replied, a concerned smile on his face.

Leo explained everything that Don couldn't remember – which turned out to be quite a bit. Raphael came over to further embellish the tale and fill in the gaps, while Mikey told downright lies.

"Mikey! That's not how it happened!" Leo exclaimed as Raphael tapped their errant brother slightly more gently than normal on the head.

"Ow! It _so _was, Donny – there were these things with twenty arms and legs and everything!"

"Sometimes, Mikey, even _I_ think you play too many video games," Don smiled weakly. He yawned, and they were all suddenly interrupted by a curious rumbling sound. Mikey looked down at his stomach thoughtfully.

"Not me, but I think I'm about ready to go out in sympathy with someone else." He grinned. Don looked slightly embarrassed.

"Actually, I think it was me. I'm hungry."

Leo smiled widely and got back to his feet.

"Good. I was hoping you'd say that. The Professor says that you have to stick to liquid foods for today – he needs to analyse the function of your kidneys. You know, soup and stuff." Don screwed his nose a little but said,

"That's fine. I think chewing might take up too much energy."

* * *

As afternoon slipped into evening, Leo drifted into Don's bedroom – which was still acting as a makeshift laboratory for Professor Honeycutt. The professor looked up as Leo entered.

"I'm glad that my robot body does not require any sleep," he said. "Without that, I'm afraid this afternoon might have been very different." Leo nodded and smiled.

"Professor…"

"Yes?"

Leo knelt before the robot man and put his forehead into the well of his hands on the floor – in a display of the utmost respect. The robot fidgeted awkwardly.

"Thank you," Leo said, his words heartfelt.

"Without you, Professor Honeycutt, and everything you've done for us, I would be burying two brothers today.

"The thought… The thought of that alone is enough to bring me to my knees – but you saved them. You did what Raphael and I were unable to do because we lacked the knowledge and the skills-"

"-But not the heart," Professor Honeycutt interrupted.

"No, not the heart – but everything else. Raphael has pointed out to me that we couldn't have saved them alone – and while that's not a first for us, perhaps… Perhaps this time it was such a close call that it matters more."

"Leonardo. You have come to my aid more times than I can recall. There is no debt here – among friends," the Fugitoid said timidly. Leo sat back on his feet and nodded.

"Among friends," he agreed, a gentle smile caressing his face.

They were silent for a moment as Leonardo got to his feet. The Professor changed the slide in Don's microscope and said,

"Donatello's kidneys will be fine, I think. There is still a little damage, but their function has improved during today, with proper hydration. I believe they will repair themselves, given time."

"Good," Leo said, breathing an audible sigh of relief.

"Leonardo, there is… There is the matter of me going home," the Fugitoid said, nervously. Leo nodded, his expression suddenly grave.

"We have to get you back to the Utroms, find out what Bishop is planning and destroy that Transmat."

"Well, I think I can supply some information about Bishop's plans, at least," the Fugitoid said, earnestly. "I downloaded a lot of information from his hard drive. Perhaps when Donatello is feeling a little better, we can take a look and see if we can analyse his data for plans." Leo nodded.

"But right now, he and Mikey both need rest. To go up against Bishop, we need the whole team. I can't go without them."

"I understand. I have sent a message to my Utrom friends to let them know I am safe, and that I will be home in due course," the Fugitoid nodded

"I'm sure Don will help you with that, if you need it. Right now, I'm going to go tell everyone the good news."

* * *

_Thank you for continuing to read my fic! Don't worry; I'm not winding her down yet – we can't let Bishop get away with all that, can we? ;) Please join me in about seven days!:)_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Vile Vial**_

_**Disclaimer: **__**TMNT was created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. TMNT belongs to Mirage Studios. I am not making any money from this fic.**_

_Author's Note: Thank you all for reading so far! Hopefully you'll enjoy this offering:)_

_**Glossary**_

_Tsuka –handle_

_Saya – sheath_

_Yumi – Japanese bow_

* * *

Chapter Seven

"Mikey!" Raph yelled, as his star fighter was blown to smithereens. "You're supposed to-" he cut himself off as he glanced at his brother. Michelangelo was sleeping soundly, controller still in his hands. As Raphael watched, his head dropped further and further forward. He lay sideways on the sofa, propped up against Raph.

"Hmph. Wonder if that's a side-effect of the serum?" Raph muttered, putting the controller on the floor beside him. He glanced back at Don, who had drifted off some time before and was hanging over Mikey's legs like a warm turtle-blanket. He too had become fed up with the constant and unpleasant stream of virus waste from his nose, and had adopted Mikey's idea of nasal tissue plugs.

"Turtle pile-up, huh?" said Raph, carefully disentangling himself from Mikey and taking the controller from his lap. He stood, mindful not to disturb his sleeping brothers and turned off the games console.

"Kaboom…boom…" murmured Mikey in his sleep. Raphael slapped a hand over his face.

Leo walked into the room and immediately his eyes were caught by the turtles sleeping in a pile on the sofa. His expression softened a little.

"Raph, we-"

He was interrupted by the perimeter alarms sounding. At Don's workstation, the once dormant LCD screen flickered to life, the security software defaulting to the front of the display. Leo ran to the desk, as the alarms continued to sound. He knew little about the security system, but knew enough that anything able to set it off was something they needed to worry about – more than ever now that they were two fighters down.

The two turtles on the sofa scrambled as they were woken and Don said, still barely awake,

"It's my perimeter alarm…"

Mikey stood, in a better state than Don, and reached for his nunchakus – which were missing from his sides.

"Aw…nuts!" he muttered, making his way quickly to his room.

"Raph! Get Don and Mikey into one of the back rooms!"

"But I can fight!" Mikey protested, but Leo's expression was unforgiving.

"Not today," Leo said firmly. He tapped at Don's keyboard, opening up a new window. Some weeks before, Don had installed closed circuit video cameras into more distant parts of the sewer around their home, and it was these Leo was now viewing.

He changed the computer display to show four camera views at once – and growled. There were armed men approaching the lair from several directions. They wore army surplus, but carried weapons that Leo had not seen the like of before.

_Bishop!_ Overcome suddenly, Leo snarled. His hands itched for his katana tsuka, his chest ached for the chance to transfer his pain from his own body to Bishop's. He'd watched as two of his precious brothers were brought to within an inch of their lives for the pleasure of the twisted Government agent, and he had no plans to let his perversion go unpunished.

"It's Bishop!" Leo said, and immediately he heard Raph's voice roar from the living area,

"Bishop's here!? I'll _kill_ 'im!"

Leo had no doubt that Raph meant it, too, but he couldn't be allowed to exact his revenge – not here, not yet. They had to lead Bishop's men away from their home; Don's security systems were second to none in their planning, but they had not been truly tested yet and Leo didn't want to find out that they needed more work while two of his brothers were so vulnerable.

"Raph, just get the other two somewhere safe!" Leo commanded, tapping at the keyboard.

"My sons! What is going on?!" Master Splinter's voice was commanding; Leo turned and saw him striding towards him from his room, closely followed by Casey and April.

"Bishop's men have infiltrated the sewers, Master. Raphael and I are going to draw them away from the lair."

"I will go with you," Master Splinter said. Leo turned to his sensei, who now stood at his side.

"But Master, we-"

"Leonardo. That man brought sickness to our door, and poison to my family. His hatred of those who are different almost caused the death of two of my sons; I _will _go with you."

Leo paused, then nodded, a grateful smile on his face.

"I understand, Sensei."

"You can count me in, too!" Casey boomed, swinging a hockey stick in one hand as he approached. "Nobody messes with the Turtles on my watch and gets to stand up afterwards. Nobody!"

Leo smiled again, wider this time.

"Thanks, Casey."

"Leo! Please…" Don's voice was weak even as Raph tried to bundle him into one of the bedrooms. Leo met his brother's eyes briefly.

"Leo, I've been working on more defence systems in the sewers. Let me sit at the PC – I can help you from in here, even if I can't fight!"

Leo paused. He didn't want either of his vulnerable brothers in a position where they could be captured or hurt, but when Don had an idea you listened, because it was normally a good one. Eventually, he gave a curt nod – agreeing to the idea but making it clear that it was only under duress.

"And I can stay with Don and help!" Mikey said, breaking free of Raph's grip. He panted a little, still worn down too quickly by the illness than had consumed him only a day before. Raph didn't try to grab him back, merely scoffed.

"I doubt you could do much to help Don. Hinder, maybe."

"If you let me get my nunchakus, I'll protect him if they get in here," Mikey said, and his voice was serious. "And April's here – and the Professor.

"I can fight if I have to."

"Raph, let him. Bring Don over here," Leo conceded. Mikey might have been a less than efficient member of the team on occasion, but when the chips were down he was an excellent defender of the faith. He had a special fondness for Don – and their baby brother was a force to contend with when you really pushed him.

Raphael walked Don as quickly as he dared towards the PC centre. His brother was still frail, so he didn't want to rush him but all the time in the back of his mind he could hear the footsteps of the enemy approaching.

Donatello sat in the computer chair heavily. He took a second to catch his breath.

"You guys, put on your shell cell headsets and go – me and Mikey will take it from here," he said. Leo squeezed his shoulder and headed for the door, shadowed by his father and Raphael. Casey drew up the rear, and they passed the worried Fugitoid as they headed for the door.

"We'll be back," Leo said, putting on his headset. "Be careful, guys."

"_You _be careful," Don responded, concern edging his words. He watched as most of his family disappeared out of the door into the danger zone.

As Mikey came to stand at his side, his nunchakus installed in his newly donned belt, Donatello scowled and tapped at the keyboard, bringing up new windows and typing in strings of commands that Mikey had no hope of understanding.

"Donny? Whatcha doin'?" asked Mikey, trying to follow his brother's train of thought and failing miserably.

"Routing the mains power out to the security system. Some of this stuff needs a lot of juice to make it work," Don said, still tapping and not looking up.

If _it works… I didn't get a chance to test it properly._

_I could end up harming my family instead of the enemy…_

Don swallowed nervously. He hoped he could trust his calculations as much as he wanted to believe he could.

The lights went out. There was a moment of inky blackness in the lair, permeated only by the light of the computer screen - then a low hum as the backup generators kicked in and the lights came back online, although dimmer than before.

"Don? Is there anything I can do?" asked April, drawn to where the brothers were. The Fugitoid also approached, echoing April's sentiment.

"Not at the moment, guys, but I might need you in a bit. Don't go away; this could be one heck of a show," the turtle said, still tapping away.

"Mikey, turn the TV on to channel 059," Don said, pressing the return key. Mikey did so obediently, and the TV stack was suddenly full of CCTV camera images. A different feed appeared in each screen; a heady total of nine cameras were available for viewing at any one time.

"How far away are those guys?" Mikey asked.

"Not far enough," was Don's less-than-reassuring reply.

"If you guys really want to help, you can give me the heads up when you can see Raph and Leo. You can see all approaches to the lair with those within a one mile radius. Mikey, you can flick between views with the 'Aux' button on the remote control," Don said, starting to tap at the keyboard again.

"There's at least twenty of them – maybe more…" April said, stunned as armed men were filling by one of the cameras.

"Which camera are you watching, April?" asked Don, still tapping away.

"Thirteen," she replied.

"Great. Unlucky thirteen," Don responded. "They're practically about to knock on our front door."

Leonardo had immediately surrendered overall leadership to his father and sensei. He knew that however good his skills were, his father's were better. The old rat had split the team into two – he with Raph and Leo with Casey. Leo understood his decision; he had put a capable leader and a melee fighter in each group – it made sense. It also meant that there was a communicator in each team; only he and Raph had headsets to wear or knew what to do with them.

Leo and Casey crept along the wall. Leo strained his ears; his sensitive hearing could hear the approach of boots from two blocks away. Raph and Master Splinter were also nearby, preparing to attack the back of the line of intruders as Leo and Casey prepared to attack from the front in a pincer move.

Leo could hear the reassuring sound of his brothers' breathing over the headsets in the quiet. His own presence was almost entirely cloaked, but Casey wasn't nearly so careful.

Casey Jones was hard work. He had no ninja training, and was less than graceful. He'd almost given away their position twice already, which infuriated Leo no end.

He was grateful for Casey's offer of help, but was worried he'd get them killed before they could actually do anything to defeat the intruders.

"Don… How many intruders are there?" Leo whispered.

"You've got ten between you and Raph, but they've split into two groups – you've got another fifteen moving towards the lair," was the response through his earpiece. Leo's face set.

"You hear that, Raph?" he whispered.

"Yeah. I heard 'im. Let's get this party started." Raph's voice was low.

Leo could hear the boots approaching faster now, louder –

"Hey, Bill – you reckon we'll find anything down here?" Leo heard one of them say as they came within inches of the dark tunnel he and Casey were hiding in, pressed against the wall.

"Nah – bodies maybe, but nothing living. I don't know why the boss sent so many of us down here – this'll be a breeze."

_Think again, boys…_ Leo thought to himself, gritting his teeth. He silently slid his katana from their saya.

"Do I get to-" Casey began, and Leo instantly lifted a hand and put a finger on his lips – but it was too late.

"What was that?" the one named Bill said, his weapon instantly pointing into the darkness, a night scope searing through the pitch black.

"That a go, Leo?" Raphael grated through the earpiece, hearing the activity at his brother's end of the enemy.

"Yes, it's a go! Go, Raph, _now_!" Leo yelled, running out from the safety of the shadows.

"What the-!" exclaimed Bill, seconds before the gun was knocked from his hands. Leo jumped off his back and sliced through the weapon of the attacker behind him, while Casey ran in to back up Leo. He waved a baseball bat menacingly, a look of fervour in his eyes – partially hidden even as they were behind the mask.

"_Goongola_!" he screeched and landed a strike around the head of the second man.

The third however was quicker, and managed to get off a blast of his weapon before Leo cannoned into him, knocking him to the ground. It missed Leo's head by centimetres, slicing right through one of his mask tails. Growling, Leo rolled to the ground and elbowed the man in the temple, sending him into unconsciousness.

As Leo looked up, he found himself looking up into the barrel of an unidentifiable weapon.

"Freeze, freak!" the fourth agent shouted. He clicked off the safety and took aim.

"Bishop said we wouldn't find any of you weirdoes alive! He won't mind if I take you back _dead_!" His finger travelled to the trigger, and twitched.

Suddenly a shadow passed across his vision. Momentarily distracted, the agent followed the shadow with his eyes and gasped as he turned just in time to see Raphael, sai pointed outwards, flying towards him with intense hatred in his eyes. Leo immediately rolled to his feet as Raphael crashed into the agent, barrelling him off his feet.

As he fell to the ground, Raphael's whole weight upon him, the turtle rammed one of his sai into the floor beside his throat so hard that it cracked the concrete. A fleck of the hard stone flicked up and left a gash along the side of the agent's neck. His teeth bared, Raphael crouched over the fallen man as he shook and said,

"Well, you just tell your boss that turtles are out of season. Not to mention, we're a _protected species_.

"And tell him that _Raphael_ said, if Bishop ever comes after his brothers again, he'll kill him and use his guts to string his yumi.

"Capisce?"

Raphael stood up, his gaze still hard as he glanced around. Casey was doing an agent more damage than he probably should, and Master Splinter had just dispatched the last man standing.

"Thanks Raph," Leo said. Raph just nodded, adrenaline still stealing everything but his permanent itch to fight.

"Is this the best Bishop has?" Leo asked Raphael. His brother shrugged.

A low, mocking laugh came from somewhere beneath them.

"Hah! No – we're just the back up squadron," one of the crumpled men said. Leo snarled and pulled the man to his feet by the throat.

"Where are the others?!"

"Leo! You've got incoming!" Don called suddenly through Leo's earpiece.

"Where are they coming from?"

"South! They're just out of range of my experimental security system! If you can get them to go forward a little more, I can get them from here!"

"You got an ETA for me?" Leo asked Don as Master Splinter arrived beside them, brushing a spot of dirt from his happi coat.

"Uhm… about thirty seconds?" Don replied. Leo threw down the man and yelled to those without ear pieces,

"We've got to go! There are more of these guys on the way – this was just the start!"

Leo turned and lead the group into the darkness of the sewer tunnel he and Casey had been hiding in. Splinter smiled and nodded his head, not attempting in the slightest to wrestle leadership from his son. He allowed him to act on his instinct; an instinct honed by what was now many trips to the surface, leading his brothers into and - more importantly – _out _of battles.

Don whizzed out from behind on the desk on his chair.

"Can anybody see the guys?"

"I can," April said. "Leo's just appeared on camera 27."

"Good," replied Don, a smile gracing his face.

"Leo, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Donny. What is it?" Leo whispered as he led the group through the pitch darkness. He'd grudgingly allowed Casey to hold onto the back of his belt – dominant numbers of the group were ninja, but Casey most certainly was not. He had no ability to see in the darkness, no trained senses to pick up on the presences around him. If he hadn't been allowed to grab onto someone, the likelihood was that he'd have ended up totally and utterly lost – or worse, would have given their position away again with his cries.

"When you get to the end of this corridor, turn left."

"But that's a dead end," Leo scowled.

"Trust me, Leo. Turn left. And if you won't trust _me_, then trust your instincts."

Leo took a breath as he reached the end of the tunnel. There was nobody he trusted more than Don, but he was certain that there was no option to turn left in this tunnel.

He took a breath and placed his trust in his heart and his brother – but risked his katana first.

He stopped where he knew the wall to be, and gently prodded at it with a katana. There was a gentle ripple, an almost unperceivable glow in the darkness as what had appeared to be reality wound around Leo's katana.

"What the-" Raph began, but cut himself off. Leo grinned.

"It's a hologram. Taking lessons from the Utroms, Donny?"

"Maybe one or two!" his brother admitted.

"How long's that been there, Donny?" Raph asked, quietly pleased with his brainiac brother.

"Oh, a nice while. I had some tech I borrowed from Mr Mortu that I was dying to use on something. It's likely that you never saw the tunnel behind the hologram."

"Can I take this moment to remind you that you shouldn't be wandering around new sites without a buddy, Don?" Leo whispered, suddenly reminded of the need for quiet. He heard his brother muttering something about being overprotective and smiled briefly.

"This tunnel will lead you through to the heavily fortified area. Turn right at the end of this tunnel, and then left – you'll find a dead end right in front of you. Go right down to the wall and pull the brick marked with a cross to your left. A hidden cupboard will open up – it has four gas masks inside.

"You need to put them on.

"When you've done that, you need to draw them towards the dead end. Give me a shout when they're all there," Don explained. Raph and Leo could head tapping beneath his words as he worked his keyboard for all it was worth.

"I can't get…a longer…range…on this stuff yet…" Don muttered, tapping away.

"On what, Don?" asked Leo.

"Don't worry – you'll see soon enough. But whatever you do, _don't_ take those masks off until I tell you to."

An involuntary shiver ran down Leo's spine.

He loved Donatello to pieces, but sometimes – just _sometimes_ – he would flick into 'mad scientist' mode, and that made Leo nervous for all the things he didn't know about Don and his lab, all alone in the early hours.

Leo turned right, still leading Casey along by his belt. Every now and then, Raph would prod his friend with a sai to remind him to step smartly – and Casey, who had already been told to shush once by Leo, did not dare reply. He did, however, put the prods in the back of his mind to remember for a later date.

Eventually, Leo took the left Don had recommended, and sensed the cessation of air flow through the tunnel. The dead end was right in front of him, and he reached out to trail his hand along the wall as he walked towards it.

"There's a light switch inside the cupboard too, Leo," Don's voice came over the headsets. Leo acknowledged his brother's comment, and reached into his belt for a torch.

Even a ninja at their level couldn't see a pen marking on a brick in pitch black darkness without aid.

Searching quickly, Leo found the brick in question and tugged it to his left. It moved only a few millimetres, but it was enough. With a small click, a one-foot-square door popped open. It had previously been perfectly hidden in the cracks of the mortar in the brickwork.

Leo reached inside the cupboard and sought out the light switch. He snapped it on, and the whole area was engulfed suddenly in the bright light of an overhead lamp. They all squinted at one another as their eyes adjusted to the sudden change.

"Ow…" muttered Raph, rubbing his eyes. He looked up to see Leo offering him a gas mask. He took it disdainfully, and unstrapped the back. He pushed his face into the mask and looked up, strapping the back tightly around his head and pulling the protective flap down over the back of his neck. He rolled his eyes as he caught sight of Casey, who had managed to get his mask on backwards.

"How's anyone supposed to fight with this thing on?!" he exclaimed.

"You need to take off your hockey mask first, you knucklehead!" Raph responded, pulling hard on one of the straps across Casey's face.

"Ow!" exclaimed the hulk of a man, as his hockey mask impacted with his nose.

"Will you two hurry it up?" hissed Leo, mask in place and weapons at the ready. Master Splinter's mask was also in position; albeit uncomfortably, as the masks were optimized for Turtle use.

"They're headed for you, Leo… Fourteen of them. Make some noise," Don's voice crackled through their headsets.

"Look alive, guys… Time to let the enemy know exactly where we are," Leo said, for the benefit of those without headsets. The group prepared themselves, lowering into their various fighting stances.

"Casey, would you like to do the honours?" Leo asked. Casey beamed.

"Can I?"

"Knock yourself out," Leo replied, a wry grin on his face.

"Whohoo!" Casey exclaimed, standing forward, taking a deep breath and yelling,

"Oh stupid-alien-hunter-goons! Come out, come out wherever you are! We're all exposed and stuff!"

"Isn't it about time you taught him some proper taunts, Raph?" Leo muttered to his brother. Raph shrugged.

"I thought he was doing really well."

Neither of them responded to the giggle which interrupted the extended tapping on the other end of the headsets.

"C'mon! I'm unarmed! Honest!" Casey yelled. Leo cringed.

Tame though Casey's taunts may have been, they did seem to work. Within moments, they could hear boots stamping along the corridor.

Leo noted to himself that the covert abilities of their attackers seemed to have been left by the by and that if they were _his_ team they'd be doing stealth exercises eighteen hours a day for a week - just as they appeared around the corner, drawn like moths to the bright light.

"A bit closer, Leo…" Don said, tapping away. Leo could imagine the look of concentration on his brother's face as he spoke.

"C'mon! What are you waiting for?! I thought we were supposed to be easy pickings! Take you by surprise, did we? Are we made of more mettle than you thought?!" Leo exclaimed, deciding that more aggressive heckling was necessary.

"Expecting us to keel over and die like good little doggies, huh? Well, think again, you whack-bags!" Raph exclaimed, banging his chest with a fist.

"Not even man enough to give us a fighting chance! _Hah_! Isn't it terrible when a _turtle_ is more of a man than you are!?" Leo snarled.

That particular comment looked like it hurt. At least two of the group moved to look through the sights on their weapons and they all stepped forward. One…two…three…

"Nighty-night, boys," Don said darkly, as with a gentle 'poof', a cloud of white powder abruptly descended on the group. Bishop's men looked up, wide eyed at the unprecedented attack. This was something much more advanced than they'd been expecting – and perhaps a touch out of character.

Leo glanced down at the crystalline powder that coated his arms.

"Did I mention that you guys will need to wash off before you come home?" Don said, from the relative safety of the lair.

"No, somehow you forgot to mention that. What is this stuff, Donny?" Leo asked, watching as the men before them suddenly fell limp, their arms seeming to lose all their strength, their guns dropping into the sewage below them and their knees beginning to lose their rigidity.

"It's Ketamine," Don responded, after a pause.

"Ketamine? But that's illegal!" Leo exclaimed, shocked. "It's a controlled substance, Don!"

"It's not illegal unless it's being sold on the streets in certain concentrations – it's commonly used in emergency rooms up and down the country, Leo. I just crystallised it.

"Don't worry – trust me, it's not a dose that will hurt them. They're going to have some really weird dreams, but they're going to be fine - and better still, they're not going to have any memory of the sewers, or exactly where they 'found' us, or in what state."

There was a long, irritated pause.

"Don, you and I need to talk. Seriously."

"Yeah. I knew you'd say that," Don sighed. "You guys need to get those goons to the surface. Oh! But can you bring me one of those weapons? And don't forget to turn out the light, Leo."

"We'll see," Leo said, walking over to the cupboard and flicking off the light switch, pitching the red-brick section of sewer into darkness. He was still unnerved by his brother's latest work on the security system. He knew in his heart of hearts that all Don had in mind was the protection of his family – but Leo sometimes wondered if ethics were a line his brother toed only intermittently.

Leo frowned as he thought about it further, helping his family to move the groaning, sighing and occasionally singing goons to the surface and leaving them in a pile by the riverbank.

"Oh my God, Mommy, look at the pretties!" one heavyset goon said, pointing to the sky as Leo rolled him onto the dirt.

"Yeah... Keep watching those stars…" Leo encouraged, separating the soldier from his weaponry. He looked at one of the wide-barrelled weapons and succumbed to his brother's request.

Donny _was_ ethical - at least most of the time. What he did, he did for their family and way of life – and Leo, in the same circumstances, couldn't be sure he wouldn't do the same and so he was forced to give his brother the benefit of the doubt.

Still, he sighed as he walked over to where Raphael and Master Splinter stood in the river, washing themselves clean of the white powder. Leo left the gun in his sightline and waded in, before diving into the cold, muddy water.

The water flooded his ears, robbing him of his sense of hearing as he swam instinctively for a good ten or twenty feet. He burst out of the water, taking a deep breath.

Even though the water was mucky and cold, it still felt good.

He started as the headset he'd been using to communicate with his brothers dropped down to his neck.

_Shell! I left the headset on. Don'll cream me. _He said, pulling off the rather bedraggled-looking electronic equipment.

"Hey, Leo!" He heard Raph's voice as his brother swam towards him. Leo turned, not responding, but instead looking expectantly.

"Will you help me dunk Casey? He's standing on the shore like a moron, saying the river's too cold to get in."

"Oh yeah?" smiled Leo. Raph shrugged,

"Maybe he sniffed some of Donny's Special K."

"Hmm," replied Leo, disapprovingly.

Don took a deep breath, sighed it out and rubbed his face.

"Crisis averted," he said, as Mikey came to stand beside him. He made to press buttons on Don's keyboard, but received a slap on the back of the hand for his troubles.

"Ow!" exclaimed Mikey, nursing his hand as Don shut down the emergency system control software and re-routed the main body of electricity back to the lair.

April also came to stand beside him as the screen returned to its normal healthy – and somewhat boring – display.

"The others should be back soon," Don said, and April noticed how tired he sounded. He rubbed his eyes and sat back.

"Ow…" he muttered, wincing. April looked concerned.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's just… Kidneys. You don't realise how much you…don't realise they're there until they hurt," he shrugged.

"I didn't know they _could_ hurt," replied April, a nervous smile on her face. Don smiled back and said,

"Hey, me either."

He yawned and made to stand – but the adrenaline in his system had played him for a fool. It had tricked him, helping him to believe that he was well enough to act as he normally did, when in fact he was not.

He stumbled out of the chair and slapped both hands down on the desk, which allowed him to gracefully drop to his knees, his breathing suddenly shaky. The chair wheeled away behind him, and he felt April's warm hands on his shoulders.

"Don! Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm…fine. It sounds stupid, but…I forgot I was sick…" Don laughed at himself to hide how stupid he felt as he struggled to his feet, aided suddenly by his brother. Michelangelo looked worried as he supported his still recovering brother as he found his feet.

"Donatello! You're going straight to bed, mister, and no arguments!" April commanded, firmly turning the turtle towards the bedrooms. He stumbled again, but this time he had two companions to support him.

April remembered that Don's bed was high up, and geared him instead towards Leo's room – where Mikey had slept the night before.

April and Mikey got Don comfortable and he lay, sighing, irritated at his body's inability to do as it was told as she went off to the kitchen and pottered around, preparing for the return of four weary warriors.

Donatello was surprised when, instead of going back to the front room, Mikey sat beside him, propping himself up against Leo's books.

"You don't have to stay. I'm just tired," Don said, turning to look at his brother. Mikey smiled contemplatively and said,

"I know."

They paused. Don felt slightly awkward at Mikey's presence and wondered what his brother had in mind. Mikey had a face you could read like a book – and it had that rare page open, the one that said he wanted to talk on a deeper level than that of comics or video games or action figures.

Finally, Mikey spoke.

"Donny? Do you remember being sick?"

"Not really," Don shrugged. "Mostly, I remember _you _being sick. I remember talking to Leo on the webcam, but…after that, there's not much of anything.

"What do _you_ remember?"

"Mostly feeling really bad. And not being able to see you or our bros. And waking up and coming to see you, and thinking…

"Thinking that you were dead," Mikey said, his expression sad. Don's heart instantly went out to him – Mikey was never sad, life was a party thrown just for him; a sad Mikey was almost proof that there was no justice in the world.

"What do you mean?" Don asked gently.

"When I woke up on the sofa, I asked Casey if you were still sick, and if I could see you. He said I could, and he helped me up and took me along to your room. And, when we got there…

"It was just Leo and Raph and the Professor. And they were all talking quietly, and where you'd been… it was empty.

"I thought…

"I thought that you'd died.

"I thought about how you'd got sick because of me…

"And I thought you were _gone_."

Mikey turned his mask around on his face so that the eye holes were on the side of his head – that way, Don couldn't see the tears in his eyes. Don pushed his hand out to his brother, touching his knee and tugging it towards him, trying to encourage him to take the comfort he was offering.

"I'm sorry I brought it home. I'm sorry I made you sick. Next time, I won't bring anything home, I promise – I'll leave it there, I won't touch things that aren't meant to be touched…" Don could hear the tears in his brother's voice, and pushed himself into a half-seated position. Propping himself up with one hand, he reached out more forcefully with the other, determined to comfort his brother no matter what. He tutted gently and tugged on his brother's arm. At first, Mikey did not respond, but when it became clear that Don wasn't going to stop, he folded, and wrapped both arms around Don's neck.

Pulling him over, sapping what strength he had, Don said,

"It's not your fault, Mikey. It's Bishop's fault for leaving it there – that was meant for us, and one way or another, he'd have gotten it to us. If it wasn't you, in that place, on that day, it'd have been another way, another day – and maybe one when Raph and Leo were home too, and then we'd have _all_ been sick."

"B-but why'd it have to be me?" Mikey sobbed, allowing his warm-hearted brother to comfort him by wrapping an arm around the back of his neck.

"Mikey… when _isn't_ it you?" Don said wryly. He pulled up Mikey's mask and peered in as his brother blinked.

"Hmm?" he said, to reinforce his comment.

"Besides," Don continued, "It's not as thought you got away scot-free. You were sick too, remember?" Mikey nodded, taking a second to rub his eyes. Don rubbed the top of his brother's head fondly.

"You're such a goob," he sighed.

"It's your fault, you know – you stole all the brain cells when we were being made!" Mikey exclaimed, a smile creeping onto his face. Don smiled tiredly.

"Sorry. You should sleep," Mikey said, actually noticing his brother's fatigue. Don nodded and got back down into bed – but lifted the bedcovers with one arm.

"That better not be loaded," Mikey warned. Don rolled his eyes.

"Are you getting in or what?"

"Wow, it's been years! Turtle snuggle?" Mikey asked incredulously. Don grinned crookedly and nodded.

In his current mood, Mikey didn't need to be asked twice, and the brothers quickly got themselves comfortable. Don threw the blanket over Mikey as the younger brother took a deep breath, sighed it out and closed his eyes. Don tugged off his brother's mask and threw it to one side, but it didn't phase Mikey one bit. He took off his own and slung it into a corner, shuffling down into the bed.

Don watched silently as Mikey dropped off to sleep. Mikey was recovering much more quickly than Don - but it was true to say that he was still shaking off illness himself.

"Hmm. You're as tired as I am, aren't you?" Don said, his voice gentle and quiet. He spotted the single teardrop nestling in the corner of his brother's eye, and, with the stealth of a true ninja, captured it between finger and thumb without disturbing Mikey at all.

"No place for _you_ here, buddy," he said, rubbing it to nothing in his palm. With that, he yawned, and cuddled up beside his sleeping brother. He patted Mikey's head and muttered,

"Stupid Mikey. Thinking I'd hold it against you. What kind of brother do you think I am?"

_

* * *

_

Thank you for reading! Please join me again in about seven days! ;)


	8. Chapter 8

_**Vile Vial**_

_**Disclaimer: **__**TMNT was created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. TMNT belongs to Mirage Studios. I am not making any money from this fic.**_

_Author's Note: Thank you all for reading so far! There's no glossary in this chapter, but some of you may not know that '_jefe_' means 'boss' in Spanish :)_

* * *

_**Chapter Eight**_

Leo yawned as he sat curled on the sofa, watching what remained of Master Splinter's late-night soaps. Raphael had retired to bed earlier than usual, citing lack of sleep the night before – and Leo knew how he felt as he sensed himself losing sections of the plot on the show as he drifted in and out of sleep.

"Unless you can tell me what Andreas just said to Tanya, you are going to bed, my son," Master Splinter said suddenly, making Leo's head snap up.

"Not asleep," Leo bumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"No. Of course not, my son," Master Splinter said fondly, patting his son's leg. "Look in on Michelangelo and Donatello as you go, Leonardo – they are still in your room, so you may have to use a different bed."

"Mmm," consented Leo as he got tiredly to his feet and stretched.

"Goodnight, Master Splinter," Leo said, bowing before moving to go.

"Goodnight, my son," Master Splinter replied, watching as his son drifted towards the bedrooms.

"Goodnight, Professor," Leo called to the Fugitoid, who was happily pottering at Don's computer desk.

"Hmm? Oh – goodnight, Leonardo," The professor responded, before burying himself in his work again.

April and Casey had gone home some time earlier. Now that the danger had passed, they felt it was safe to do so – and Casey noted that he still felt dirty from his bath in the East River.

Leo stumbled towards his room, yawning as he pushed the door gently. He peered around the doorway into the darkened space. It took a little while for his eyes to get used to the poor light issuing from his table lamp – but when they did, he smiled.

Don and Mikey were entangled in a rather complicated mesh of turtle shells and arms and legs – both sleeping gently.

Leo was marginally surprised that they hadn't woken each other up yet – which, he guessed, was a testament to exactly how tired they were.

He crept into the room and slid the lamp switch into the 'off' position.

"Night, guys," he whispered. Satisfied, he left the room in search of a vacant bed.

* * *

Over the next few days, Mikey and Don went from strength to strength. Michelangelo's recovery was still faster than Donatello's, despite his claims to the contrary – he was rather enjoying the extra attention. Don, on the other hand, was finding the additional interest clawing and invasive and would disappear for hours on end to his room, or to the computer desk or – when Leo wasn't looking – the workshop.

This was all much to Leo's chagrin. It was like having a wayward kitten – one minute Don would be there in the front room, the next he'd be humming somewhere out of sight, huddled over a keyboard. Leo knew he should take that as a good sign – but the memories of his brothers' illness were still a fresh scar in his mind, and he was even more loathe to let Mikey and Don out of his sight than he normally was.

Leo had made it very clear that there was to be no workshop activity until Don was completely well – so when he found Don sitting in the workshop, pottering with a screwdriver and a new rocket pack prototype, he was furious.

"_Donatello!_"

Don jumped like a startled rabbit and dropped the screwdriver, narrowly missing his toe. He turned around and looked accusingly at Leo, who stood hands on hips in the doorway.

"What are you doing?" Leo asked, frowning exasperatedly. Don felt the sudden need to defend himself – something in the tone of his brother's voice called up the 'guilty child' part of him and he said,

"I was bored! I can't just sit around like Mikey does. I wanted to do something…fix something… I mean, I haven't got my lab anymore, so… It's hard to work. And I've got to work - even if it's only a little bit…" his face fell as he prodded the rocket pack half-heartedly with the reclaimed screwdriver.

Leo's mind slipped back to the burned-out lab. It's twisted and blackened shell had almost become part of the furniture over the last week – and Leo had somehow allowed himself to forget how important it had once been to his brother.

His expression softened.

Leo knew all about drive and motivation. He knew that Don felt the same way about his inventions and his research as he himself did about Bushido and the martial arts. He recalled the time he had been barely able to lift his own swords – when the Shredder and the Foot Clan had beaten him to within an inch of his life and had, for a time, robbed him of his self-esteem and spirit.

"Sorry," Leo said, pulling up a chair and sitting beside his brother. Don shrugged.

"I know you're only trying to protect me – but you can be a little over-zealous sometimes, Leo."

"Hmm. I know," Leo accepted, nodding. "I won't apologise for that, though."

"I wouldn't have expected you to. It's part of what makes you _you,_" Don replied, giving his brother a wry smile. Leo returned the smile and said,

"It's just that I know you tend to blow stuff up when you're not well, Don. And your reactions are still slow, so…"

"Yeah – tell me about it!" Don exclaimed, putting down the prototype irritatedly. "It's all I can do to make breakfast before lunchtime nowadays!"

"It'll come back – you just can't force it," Leo reassured. "Trust me, I know."

They were quiet for a while. Don sighed.

"It wasn't working anyway. I can't get the specific impulse above eighty-five," he grumbled. "I'd use turbofans, but I'm worried about the FOD. And they're huge. I don't know if I could get the pack to carry one of us _and_ the engines.

"Maybe I'll just stick with what we have for now.

"Or…" pondered Don, "Maybe it's time to go back to good old H2O2…"

Leo looked bemused.

"Uh… Yeah. Maybe." He said eventually. It was difficult to converse with Don when he slipped into 'die-hard geek' mode. It was a bit like talking to Mikey when he raved about MMORPGs – where he would apparently 'craft', 'debuff', 'gank', 'nerf', 'pull' and 'farm', all of which meant absolutely nothing to Leo.

They paused, quiet for a moment.

"Don?"

"Mm?"

"How about we build you a new lab?"

Don paused.

"If I'm not allowed to touch rocket packs, why am I allowed to build a new lab?"

"Well…when I said _we_, what I really _meant_ was 'mostly me and Raph'…" Leo said, sheepishly.

"You can…erm…_supervise_? And maybe pick up the light stuff," he finished. He looked at Don's face, waiting for a reaction.

"And I can draw my own plans?" Don asked, curiously. Leo nodded.

Don smiled widely.

"I'd have to be a complete fool to say no to _that_!" he exclaimed, clearly pleased.

And so began the Huge Effort Lab Project. Mikey pointed out that the name he'd given the rebuild spelled the acronym 'HELP' but he chose an inopportune moment to say so – as was his way.

"Mikey – would you just shut up and take the other end of this?" Raphael grated, pulling a large chunk of metal out of the blackened ex-lab.

"How come I get to carry the heavy stuff? I was sick too, you know," Mikey grumbled. Pouting considerably.

"Because you heal faster and your kidneys weren't hurt." Raphael said. Still, when Leo spotted what was happening, he immediately sought out Mikey's end of the load and elbowed his little brother out of the way.

"Go see what can be salvaged from the inside, Mikey," Leo instructed. Knowing he'd been defended, Mikey sighed theatrically, pouted at Raph, and headed for the charred inner lab.

Don looked up from his desk, which had been only slightly charred – standing as it did to the right of the old subway car, he had moved it aside when he'd originally set the fire. He was holding a pencil, the tip in his mouth; a thoughtful expression graced his face. As he came to a decision, he accidentally chomped down on the very tip and instantly spat out the graphite fragments.

"Peh," he said, pulling a face.

"Donny?" called Mikey from inside the lab.

"Yeah?" replied Don, adding some notes to the bottom of his design without looking up.

"What did this used to be?"

Don had to look up now, and saw Mikey produce a small, blackened metal orb, with charred wires and two sections of melted plastic sticking out of it.

"Well, whatever it was, it's no good now," Don shrugged, looking back down. "That can go in the pile for the junk yard.

"And it must be bad if _we're_ throwing it away."

Don shaded an area of his plan quietly. He felt guilty that his brothers were doing all the hard work, but he'd been given strict instructions not to touch anything heavier than a grapefruit.

He thoughtfully scaled down one idea, thinking it too much to ask his brothers to find him a 400gb hard drive. That was the kind of tech they weren't going to find in the junk yard.

He didn't notice Leo standing beside him until his shadow fell over the desk.

Don looked up to see Leo looking forlorn. The expression was only momentary, and almost immediately it was replaced by a well-humoured smile – but its predecessor had not escaped Don's notice.

"What's up?" he asked. Leo shook his head.

"Nothing."

"You're lying," Don said matter-of-factly as he looked back down at his nearly complete plan. He felt a gentle tug on his mask-tails. He glanced up, surprised.

"I'm…sorry you had to burn your lab, Don," Leo said, quietly. Don smiled, slightly relieved that it was only _that_ bothering his brother.

"I'd do it again," Don said softly. "If I had to. To protect you guys.

"I didn't have a choice.

"After I burned the lab, Master Splinter fired the spot where Mikey found the vials and took word to Leatherhead." Leo tugged his brother's mask-tails again sympathetically.

"Anyway, it's only because I was an idiot that I had to do it in the first place," Don winced, remembering all too well the moment that put him in the path of the speeding train.

"Well, soon you'll have a shiny _new_ lab. Well – I'm not sure it'll be shiny, but we'll do our best." Leo tugged the mask tails firmly and fondly once more, then let go.

"It'll be perfect," Don smiled as he stood up. He tucked the pencil into the side of his mask, rolled up the plans and gave them to Leo.

"Besides, _I _designed it, so it's _gotta_ be good," he grinned cheekily. Leo tutted, took the plans and lightly bopped his brother with them.

Unrolling the plans, Leo glanced through them and raised an eyebrow.

"A waterproof keyboard?"

There was deathly silence in the room. After a few moments, Mikey broke the silence with an almighty,

"Whoohoooo!! _Go Donny_!" Confusion flashed across Don's face, closely followed by abject horror.

"No! It's not what you think!" he exclaimed, waving his hands in front of him.

"Ooookay," Leo nodded, still with his eyebrow raised.

"No, really!"

"Suuuure, Donny, suuure," Raph appeased, patting his dismayed brother on the shoulder.

"It's for when I fall asleep at my desk… So I don't drool and ruin it – I've gone through enough keyboards that way," Don said shamefacedly. Leo smiled.

"Here's an idea. We'll get you a normal keyboard and you can go to bed when you're tired like you're supposed to. Okay?" Don nodded sheepishly.

It took a most of the day and all evening to salvage what Don needed. Raph and Leo, with a little help from Mikey, called in help from everyone in the locality that Don had ever done a favour for – and the list was long. The homeless professor and his friends, Leatherhead (who was more than happy to help and was actually upset that they hadn't come to him for more aid when the whole situation blew up), Sydney and some of the people who had been trapped in the underground city, April, Casey, Nobody (who used his connections to get some equipment that was about to go to police auction) and finally Angel, who was instrumental in rounding everybody up and giving and getting status reports. Even the Fugitoid offered his help.

It was a massive job, but everybody who was asked was willing to lend a hand.

Don provided his aid to people without bias and without ever asking for reward or thanks. For a number of the turtle's gathered friends, it was time to give something back.

Don was utterly stunned when Mikey explained how many people had turned out for the cause. He fretted about how he would pay them back, until Mikey clumped him on the head fondly, told him that nobody expected to be 'paid back' and that he should simply sit back and enjoy the ride.

There was a further two days of relatively constant construction, in which Don was to some extent allowed to participate. Master Splinter even relaxed Raph and Leo's training a little (Mikey and Don were still exempt) so that they could put in extra time on the lab.

Don was exceptionally good at hiding his feelings, but Master Splinter knew without doubt that he had been devastated at the loss of his laboratory. The only thing he knew he would prefer was being allowed to actually create it himself, but Leo was doing his very best impression of a mother bear and Don was under strict instructions not to interfere.

However, by day two of the build, Leo gingerly allowed Don to pick up anything he wanted to – as long as it didn't weigh more than a watermelon.

"Seriously, Leo… You worry too much," Don frowned, sneakily picking up a PC monitor out of Leo's sight. He winced, managed three paces and promptly put it back down. Mikey snuck up behind him, slapped both hands on his shoulders and said,

"I am so telling Leo on you, bro."

"If you don't, I'll make it worth your while…" Don cajoled.

"What'll you do…?" Mikey rubbed his palms eagerly. Don grinned wickedly.

"I'll make sure he never find out about the time you snuck out of training to watch the 'Silver Sentry Special' on TV. I covered you, remember?"

Mikey snapped his fingers and scowled.

"Nuts!" he exclaimed, and picked up the monitor on Don's behalf.

The Fugitoid had confirmed that the fact Mikey's progress was considerably faster than Don's was due to the latter's damaged kidneys. Their effectiveness was reduced, so it was taking longer for them to clean the waste from his system. He also pointed out that the A-210 virus had mutated within him, making it hard to predict anything about the overall outcome – although he confirmed that he was still 92.7 sure Don would make a full recovery. Leo quietly worried about the other 7.3, but Don certainly didn't seem to and so he kept his concerns to himself.

At approximately 9:15pm on the third day, Raph tucked a screwdriver into his belt, sighed and stood back. Four tired turtles looked over the lab, one of them seeming particularly fond.

Before them stood something that resembled the original lab – but bigger and better. The boys had stripped the old subway car down to it's frame, which was mostly intact, and had re-fitted it with aluminium sheeting from there. Raph had thrown several fits with the rivet gun, at which point Leo had taken over and sent him off to use the welder. Mikey had kept himself busy by fitting out the inside of the car with various parts nabbed from, of all places, Bishops train. Don had stuck to the electrics, and had happily pottered with switchboxes and wires and plugs for most of the third day.

Between them, they had set up the electronic equipment inside the lab under Don's instruction. The last things to be added were a PC that was screwed into a slide-out shelf under the desk and the associated graphics tablet.

Don couldn't draw artistically for love nor money - but he could draw a straight line without a ruler and, rather surprisingly, could draw a perfect circle.

"This is _wicked_ cool, guys," Don grinned, patting the wall of his new lab. Leo smiled and stepped forward, patting his brother's shoulder.

"Sure. Just don't set fire to this one," he said warmly. Don smiled wryly and nodded, as his other two brothers approached. Raph gave him an affectionate noogie and Mikey slung an arm around his shoulders.

"Thanks, guys," Don said, smiling gratefully. Leo shrugged, Raph waved his words away and Mikey said,

"So you can make me that add-on for the PS2 now?" he grinned. Don grinned back.

"I think I can manage that!"

"First though…" said Leo, sternly. Don looked concerned, and all the boys turned immediately to their older brother. Leo paused for a moment, then grinned.

"It's _your_ turn to make tea," he said, pointing at Don. Don nodded, raising his hands in surrender.

Later on in the evening, Raph and Mikey were slouched in front of the TV and Leo was making use of the last hour of the day by catching up on some slightly neglected training. Every now and then there would be a rustle from the sofa as Mikey mechanically stuffed chip after chip into his face.

"Don't ever you get tired of being a chelonian trash can, Mikey?" Raph pulled a disgusted face as he looked at his brother. Still with a mouthful of chips, Mikey looked up, stunned. He patted Raph's arm and said,

"Wow, Raphie - that was a long word for _you_." He wiped a fake tear and continued, "I'm so proud!" Raph slapped his hand away and grouched,

"Yeah, like you even know what it means!"

"Hey, you two – come and look at this," Leo interrupted, walking over to the sofa. Curious, the two turtles stood and followed their brother to the new lab. Peeking through the open door, Raph grinned and Mikey stifled a laugh.

Don lay prone over his new desk, face down on some papers, snoring gently. He had a screwdriver in one hand and a small black plastic unit with wires peeping out in the other.

"And here we have the geek, in his natural habitat," Raph said quietly, and Mikey laughed. Quiet as only a ninja can be, Mikey crept into the new lab. He was still holding the bag of chips, which he'd put to his mouth and emptied before getting up to follow Leo. A wicked thought had entered his mind, and he put the bag to his mouth and blew air into it like a balloon, all the time creeping up behind Donatello.

"Mikey…" Leo warned, but Mikey remained unperturbed as he raised his hands behind Don's head; in one hand the blown up chip packet and the other hand ready to burst it.

"Mikey!" hissed Leo. "You do that, and I'll think of a punishment to make you wish you hadn't!"

Taking a second to think about it, Mikey finally sighed and relaxed his arms.

"Party pooper," he scowled, and screwed the packet up in his hands.

Don's head suddenly snapped up from the desk. A piece of his paperwork had stuck to his cheek, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Whassit?" he asked, his eyes bleary. Blinking, he finally noted the piece of paper attached to his cheek and blew at it, making it flap, but not managing to remove it.

Even Leo burst into peals of laughter.

"Come on, Don. Time for bed," he forced, when he managed to control the laughter. Don blinked again. The piece of paper finally drifted off his cheek and fluttered down to the desk.

* * *

When Leo opened his eyes the following morning, he took a deep breath and sighed contentedly as he gazed at the ceiling.

Everything was as it should be.

His family was whole again.

His heart was-

"Hello!" said the Fugitoid cheerily as he gazed down at Leo.

If he had been a cat, Leo would have had all four sets of claws embedded in the ceiling.

"Professor!" he gasped, one hand on his chest after immediately snapping upright into a sitting position. "You scared me!"

"I'm sorry, Leonardo. I didn't mean to startle you. I was thinking about Bishop and his transmat – and I think Donatello and I have found some information you need to know on his hard drive." Leo sat up in bed.

"Well, why don't you tell us about it over breakfast?" he suggested.

Don nodded along as the Professor explained the data they had found. Leo nursed his green tea as his eyes flicked between the two of them. Don was filling in his suspicions between the Professor's words, and the Professor was agreeing wholeheartedly to what seemed to be the beginning of a plan. Mikey was crunching on toast slathered in butter as Raph drank the last of the milk from his cereal bowl.

Don's bowl remained relatively untouched as he spoke excitedly with the Professor. Leo nudged it towards him pointedly. In mid-speech, Don glanced down and pulled the bowl towards him, acknowledging Leo's prompt even as he continued.

"And when we get there, I can-"

"No." Leo's voice came out of nowhere. Don looked taken aback.

"What?"

"No. You're not coming with us," Leo said, taking a sip of his tea.

"What do you mean I'm not going with you? Of _course_ I'm going with you," Don said, frowning. Leo shook his head regretfully.

"I'm sorry, Don. You're just not well enough yet. We can't afford to lose any more time, either – we need to put an end to whatever Bishop's planning with that transmat as soon as possible. We may already be too late."

"But I can help! Come on, you're going to need my tech skills-"

"The Professor will be able to help out with that, Don," Leo said firmly.

"Leo, isn't that-" Raph began, but Leo interjected.

"No, it isn't," he said, predicting Raph's defence of Don's presence on the mission. Leo looked back at Don's hurt expression, real regret in his eyes.

"Donny… I don't want to do this without you. But the truth is, if you're still ill and we take you with us, you're going to be a danger to the rest of the team. All it takes is for you not to be able to keep up, or for you to be captured. Your skills are rusty, even after a week or so of disuse, and you can still barely spar.

"I _want_ you to come, Don… but I can't _let _you."

"But Leo…" Mikey trailed off, frowning unhappily. Don held up his hands.

"It's okay, Mikey." He looked at Leo and smiled wanly. "I understand." He stood and pushed his chair under the table, leaving his cereal to grow still more soggy in the bowl.

Leo watched unhappily as his brother walked away. He felt like he'd just kicked a puppy. He sighed and glanced up to find Raph and Mikey vacating the table quickly. Neither of them spoke, but their discomfort was clear and Raph gave Leo a disgusted look as he headed for the doorway.

Going on a mission without Don was like losing a limb – Leo had calculated that into his decision, but had still come up with the same answer.

Don simply couldn't come.

The Fugitoid snuck away quietly, leaving Leo alone with Don's bowl of cereal and his empty teacup.

Half an hour later, Don sat at the desk in his new lab. His head rested on his hand and he was tapping his fingertips on the top of his keyboard absently. He glanced up as Leo stepped through the doorway. In his hands was a tray with a fresh bowl of cereal. He extended it nervously; his peace offering. Don smiled gently and took the tray, indicating a spare chair with a nod. Leo took him up on the offer gratefully.

"For the record, I _do_ understand," Don said, picking up the spoon and shuffling it into the bowl. "I'm just…disappointed." Leo nodded.

"I know. I'm sorry.

"I'm glad you understand. It's only because-"

"I know," Don reassured. "I'd be a liability, and you have to think of everybody. It's okay." He took a mouthful of cereal and munched on it thoughtfully.

"Maybe I can help anyway…" he said, after swallowing the mouthful. Leo looked curious.

"I've been thinking of something I can give Bishop… A return 'gift' for what he gave me and Mikey…

"You can deliver it for me while you're there, and I can do what I did when you guys had to defend the lair – I can stay in radio contact and help from afar."

"Well, sure – there's no reason why you can't do that. And I can't deny we could do with the help, Don," Leo replied, feeling slightly better now that they had come to an agreement.

Don wheeled back to his keyboard and began tapping with one hand while supporting the tray of breakfast on his lap with the other.

"I was talking with the Professor last night," he munched and swallowed the mouthful he'd been chewing. "When he downloaded Bishop's hard drive, he downloaded _everything_.

"Bishop made a lot of mistakes; the blueprints for three of his bases were on that hard drive, along with site service records, office handbooks, Human Resource data, purchase orders – heck, even his _departmental budget_ was on there.

"The Professor uploaded it all to the lab PC and I had great fun last night pulling data out of it. Before I started on that PS2 upgrade for Mikey and fell asleep, that is." He put another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. Don turned to look at Leo again; he was thoughtful, but still waiting for his brother to get to the point.

"You might be able to destroy the _actual_ transmat with physical force – but that won't stop him building another one if he still has the blueprints," Don offered, swallowing once more.

"And you can stop him using them?" Leo asked, feeling the punch line coming. Don merely grinned and took another snatch of cereal.

"I can do better than that. I can stop him using _any_ of his plans or blueprints – but it's going to take some extra hard work.

"Unfortunately, Bishop isn't as stupid as I'd hoped.

"The 'gift' I have planned will take out his computer network and render all his files unreadable – I'm going for a six-pass binary overwrite. However, that will only affect the live network – it won't affect the disaster recovery backups." Don started tapping on the keyboard again with one hand, finally pulling the tray off his lap and putting it on the desk with what was left of the cereal. He pulled up a map of the USA and focused in on an area south west of New York state.

"Bishop uses a remote backup facility. In order for the data wipe to be truly successful, we're going to have to take out the remote backup facility, too.

"I can do that from here, although the firewalls are going to be interesting.

"I need you guys to actually install the 'gift' at Bishop's base." Don glanced at Leo, who nodded.

"This way, we should be able to get rid of all information he had on the virus, anything else he had planned, and put his research back about ten years.

"He gave me and Mikey a virus – so I'm going to give _him _one," Don said, and he didn't look remorseful in the slightest. Nor would Leo have expected him to be – Bishop had put him through Hell.

"I have an idea about the other things he had planned…" said a voice from the doorway. The Fugitoid peeped around the door at the two brothers. Donatello smiled and said,

"Please, Professor, come in."

"Thank you," he replied, and stood awkwardly between Donatello and Leonardo.

"What are you thinking, Professor?" asked Leo. The Professor nodded and said,

"Well, it's all _quite_ worrying.

"I've gone over Bishop's data repeatedly over the past few days, and I've noticed a disturbing pattern.

"It's not only the A-210 virus that he's managed to lay his hands on. I recognise a number of other inter-stellar viruses – such as the B16, 176 and the 390. There are blueprints of virus structures scattered all over the data. It's unlikely that he would be able to create all of them with the materials that are available on this planet, but some of the most deadly – such as our old foe the A-210 – can be replicated fairly easily if the structural blueprints are available."

"What does that mean for us, Professor?" Leo asked, perturbed. Don shook his head.

"It's not good news. If Bishop replicates and distributes those viruses, it would be like the gas attacks of the first World War – the casualties would be terrible. Forget the Outbreak, we're talking about… not even genocide, but _xenocide_.

"But - it doesn't make any sense. Bishop's always been pro-humans. For all his faults, and his methods, he's never openly wanted to attack them before." Don paused.

"It didn't stop him kidnapping the President," Leo reminded Don. His brother nodded.

"Wait – what if he intends to use the viruses in the same way? To hold the Government hostage over money, or…

"If he blamed the viruses on an extra-terrestrial invasion, he could get more money…?"

Leo's heart sank as another idea struck him.

"No. I think it's worse than that, Donny. There's already proof that aliens exist – after the Triceratons invaded, Bishop probably got more money thrown at him than he could possibly use.

"I think he's going to use it on alien civilisations. I think he's going to-"

"To start a war," Don finished hollowly. Leo nodded.

"A war we can't possibly win," Don continued, shaking his head. "He's not crazy enough to go up against the Triceratons, and probably not crazy enough to go up against the D'hoonibians, but… do you think there's any chance he could have found out about the Utroms?"

"No," said Leo instantly – but Don was unsure if this was because he believed it to be true, or that he simply refused to believe that it could be.

"There is no data on the hard drive to suggest that the Utroms are in any danger," The Fugitoid supplied. "If there is any knowledge of them, it is stored elsewhere."

The three were silent for a while, contemplating.

Eventually, Don said,

"We're going to need to locate the virus batches. If we don't, destroying the computer files will be futile."

"Professor, is there anything on the hard drive that suggests where they might be?" Leo asked. The Professor nodded.

"There is a suggestion that they may be at a location of his in Roswell, New Mexico."

"New Mexico? How are we supposed to get there?" Leo asked. Don smiled.

"Take the copter."

"We'll need to refuel it before we get there."

"Well…yeah," Don said, turning back to his PC, rummaging for a while via several search engines and finally printing off a list of helifuel providers. He handed it to Leo.

"And they're just going to _give_ me fuel," Leo raised his eyebrows sceptically.

"No, you'll have to _pay_ for it, of course…" Don said and turned to the PC again, whipping up a purchase order from Bishop's data. He grinned as he handed the printout to his brother.

"Or Bishop can, anyway. Remember, it was Bishop's copter before we liberated it," Leo grinned back.

"The rest is down to you, _jefe_," said Don. "I'll always be connected via the Shell Cell link though, so… Let me know if I can do anything more."

Leo nodded.

"When are you planning on going?" asked Don.

"This afternoon, probably. As soon as we're ready," Leo said. Don nodded.

"It's weird not to be going," he said, rubbing his hands emptily. Leo patted his shoulder.

"You'll be with us, just not the normal way." He stood.

"Professor, make any preparations that you need to. We'll be leaving at around one."

* * *

_Thank you for reading so far! High octane chapter coming up next – hopefully I'll see you in about a week!:)_


	9. Chapter 9

_**

* * *

**_

Vile Vial

_**Disclaimer: **__**TMNT was created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. TMNT belongs to Mirage Studios. I am not making any money from this fic. Just for the record, I don't own the 'Nintendo DS' either XD**_

_Author's Note: Thank you all for reading so far! There's no glossary for this chapter, so let's just get on with the story, shall we? :) _

* * *

_**Chapter Nine**_

It took an hour to prepare the copter and a further hour for Leo and Raph to argue over directions to New Mexico. Mikey made the valid point that in a helicopter there wasn't exactly a route as such that they needed to follow. Leo then made the valid point that there _was_ a route, because they had to know where all the refuelling stations were. Raph then made the not-quite valid point that he didn't care, swept the map off the table and stalked off to his room.

At which point, Leo used a lot of colourful language and stalked off to Don's new lab, leaving Mikey to move the pushpins around that had been left on the table.

When Leo emerged from his discussions with Don, he saw a smiley face made out of pins on the table. He smiled.

* * *

Don looked forlorn as the three other brothers and the Fugitoid piled into the helicopter. Leo glanced down from the open door to his brother and father as Raph started the engine. Don and Master Splinter stood side by side just off the helipad.

"Where's the virus, Don?!" Leo shouted over the noise. Don pointed to the fidgeting Fugitoid and replied,

"The Professor has it!"

"Okay! Catch you later!"

"Sure! Be careful, guys!"

"Stop worrying, Brainiac, it'll all be fine! Leave that to Mr Anal-Retentive here!" Raph shouted from the pilot's seat, ignoring Leo's irritated look.

Splinter and Don shielded their eyes as the helicopter's propellers kicked up dust and debris scattered around the junkyard. The helicopter rose a few feet from the ground, and Don waved to the Fugitoid, mouthing the words 'Thank you'. He nodded quickly and waved, and Don only just had time to avert his face again before the copter rose into the air and quickly disappeared; only a dark black mark on a black carpet of stars.

Don's chest felt hollow.

_I should be with them._

_I feel…abandoned._

_I know I shouldn't, I know it's for my good and theirs, and I know I'm being selfish…_

_But… I can't help it._

Don was interrupted from his thoughts by the approach of the Professor- the _other _Professor.

"Thanks for continuing to look after the helicopter for me. It's a bit difficult to keep it in the sewers!" Don said, forcing a smile.

"Not at all, my boy, not at all!" said the Professor, and he patted Dons shoulder as he led him towards a nearby oil barrel, burning brightly against the night.

Master Splinter put a hand on the Professor's arm and said,

"My apologies, Professor – but my son is still unwell. I must get him home quickly."

Don could tell that Master Splinter was nervous about being out in the open – even more so with a son who couldn't defend himself if they were attacked. His heart sank at this, but instead of allowing that to show on his face, he smiled bravely.

"When I'm a little better, Professor, I'll come back up to see you. You still need to tell me about your theory for 'The Taming of the Shrew' and how it may have reflected a hatred Shakespeare had for women."

"Oh yes! That's right; I have a theory about that," said the Professor, beaming widely.

* * *

"I'm still not sure you should be coming in with us, Mikey. Maybe you should just watch the helicopter?" Leo suggested, concern on his face. The helicopter raced noisily over Texas, a black blip in the sky to anyone watching below.

"What, and miss the party!?" Mikey exclaimed, kicking back in his chair and looking up from 'Dr Kawashima's Brain Training'.

"I know you want to get in there and bap Bishop, but-"

"Leo, it's all good!" Mikey said. The Nintendo DS in his hand made a 'thunk' sound and Mikey looked down.

"Awww, nuts!" he exclaimed, and slammed the lid down on the game.

"How old is your brain now?" Leo asked, a grin on his face.

"Fifty-three…" Mikey pouted. Leo stifled a laugh and looked at Raph, who was concentrating on piloting the helicopter.

"We're going to need him, Leo. You said so yourself," Raph said. Leo nodded, not wishing to verbally confirm Raph's assertion.

"Besides…" Raph said, as they passed the aerial border into New Mexico, "I'm sick of empty chairs."

And that was something Leo had no problem agreeing with verbally.

* * *

Despite feeling slightly forsaken on the way home with his Sensei, his bo making a very useful walking stick, Don had been cheered immediately by the sight of April sitting at his desk when the got back to the lair. She chased away his feelings of abandonment, complimented his new lab – causing him to preen a little – and had offered to help him access data on the quick while his brothers were embroiled in their battle with Bishop.

His attention taken from his own situation, his concern was immediately placed with his brothers. He discovered quickly that being away from them when they were on such a dangerous mission, and he _so_ far away, made it all even more worrying than if he had actually been there on the copter with them.

It gave him a feel for the concern his father must have felt every time his sons left the lair.

After having explained the situation and the plan to April, Don made himself comfortable in the chair at his desk, while April pulled up a second and used a networked PC to access the blueprint data.

They both wore shell cell headsets, and eventually Don answered an incoming call.

"Hey, Don? You hear me okay?"

"Yup – no problem, Leo. How's it going?"

"We're as close as we can get in the copter. We're about a half-mile from the base, so we'll be going in on the down-low from here.

"Any chance of getting the 4-1-1 on the building?"

"That's my job, Leo," April said, tapping at her keyboard and zeroing in on the ground floor.

"Hey April! Didn't expect to hear from you," said Leo, not unkindly.

"I figured Don could do with some company," she smiled, not taking her eyes from the screen.

With hundreds of miles between them, the same grateful smile passed the faces of both Leo and Don.

"The viruses are on the second floor, in the bio labs on the west wing. The goods inwards entrance is the most vulnerable place to enter – but there's still a lot of CCTV. I _think_…" April trailed off, tapping hard and fast at the keyboard before her.

"Can we loop it?" Don asked.

"I doubt I can hack into a government network, Don…" April pulled a face. Don sighed.

"I don't think there's – wait…" Don said, interrupting himself. Tapping at his own keyboard, he searched Bishop's hard drive data for anything pertaining to security in the loading bay.

"Hah!" April said suddenly, zooming in on a small box on the plans. "There's a maintenance hatch on the outside of the building, right by the loading bay doors. It'll be locked, but it's nothing you guys can't handle.

"The CCTV controls are inside."

"So we can cut the CCTV – will that set off alarms?" Leo whispered, as he and his company crept closer to the building before them.

"Not if you follow my instructions…" Don said, having located the supply company from the data. He pulled up a copy of the wiring diagram and grinned.

"Don, we're going incommunicado…" Leo whispered as the boys and the Fugitoid came within 200 yards of the building. "I'll contact you again when we're closer."

"Roger that," Don confirmed, falling silent but for the constant tapping – now in stereo, as April was doing the same thing.

* * *

"Whoa…" said Mikey, looking up at Bishop's New Mexico base.

The building was three storeys high – but that was not what caught the brothers' attention. It protruded from the cliffside like a canker, its white painted façade an affront to the natural granite face. The building only extended about twenty yards from the cliff face – a sure sign that all was not what it seemed.

"Who wants to bet me that's a false front?" Leo whispered.

"I'll take that bet and raise you twenty," Raph whispered back.

From there, they approached silently. The desert didn't provide much in the way of natural coverage, so their approach was as fast as they could make it between sheltered spots. Thankfully, the sun was starting to set, and the cliff cast an immense shadow over the area as the hot red orb sank out of sight behind the rocky cliff tops.

"April... Where's the loading bay?" Leo whispered.

"Right by the cliff side, on the right side of the building. The control box is on its left," April said, examining the plans carefully. "Oh – and Leo? You win that bet hands down. What's at the front is only a fraction of the site."

The boys silently approached the loading bay doors, which were shut tightly.

"Don?"

"Working on it…" Don replied, still creating the constant tapping of heavy-duty data mining.

"Okay. The control box contains the key lock for the loading bay doors. Ask the Professor if he can mimic a key," Don said, peering at his screen.

Leo turned to the Fugitoid.

"Professor – you were able to access the controls on the Triceraton spacecraft – are you able to mimic any key?"

"Yes, I should be able to…" The Professor said, nervously.

"First, can you unlock the control box?"

The Professor hesitantly reached out an interface sensor and pressed it to the control box lock.

"Oh dear… Leonardo, is this legal?"

"Not quite," Leo replied, pulling a face. "But it's a necessary evil, Professor."

"Yes… Yes, I fear you are right," Professor Honeycutt said sadly. Without another word, the professor twitched the sensor and the door opened.

"Okay, Leo… Let me know when you're ready," Don prompted. There was a crunching noise over the headsets suddenly.

"What's that? Interference?" Leo asked, tapping his headset.

"Sorry," muttered Don, mouth full of more than air. "Peanuts."

Leo rolled his eyes.

"Okay, hit me with it," Leo said, holding his katana by the blade and edging it into the wire conduit. He levered it open, exposing a mess of wires in all the colours of the rainbow.

_I'd feel more comfortable if Don was actually doing this._ Leo thought to himself grimly.

"Okay… It's pretty straightforward. You've got a red wire, a green and yellow wire, green, yellow, blue and brown, with a whole load of black, right?"

"Yeah…" Leo agreed after taking a moment to check.

"You need to cut the yellow, the blue and the red – in that order. Okay?"

"Yup," Leo said, and slid the very end of his katana beneath the first wire, still holding it by the blade. He carefully cut each wire in turn, half expecting alarms to ring out across the area, immediately revealing their intrusion.

Blessed silence followed.

"Done?" Don asked. Leo nodded - and then remembered that Don wasn't at his side as he normally was.

"Yeah."

He heard Don sigh with relief.

"There should just be one lock inside the box – the one to open the shutters." Don prompted.

"There is," Leo replied, and without needing to be asked, the Fugitoid pressed the interface once again to the inner lock and flicked it. A grinding noise emitted suddenly from the shutters as they began to rise.

Immediately, the turtles flattened themselves against the wall. Raph grabbed the Fugitoid and pulled him against the wall also, eliciting a muffled,

"Oh dear!"

"There shouldn't be anyone in the loading bay at this time of day," April said.

Weapons at the ready, the boys carefully peered into the massive empty storage area. It was dirty and poorly painted, with chips and dings all along the walls from careless processing of deliveries.

It was also empty of people.

The turtles immediately entered the area. Despite the fact that the CCTV had been taken out, Leo indicated that they should keep to the walls. Raphael kept one eye on the Fugitoid, who loitered a little too long around what seemed to be a crate of particular interest. He grabbed him again, tugging him towards the far side of the loading bay.

"April, we need a way up to the second floor," Leo whispered urgently.

"There's a set of double doors at the very end of the loading bay. Turn left out of the doors, and then right – there's a goods lift right in front of you. It'll take you out on the second floor on the opposite side of the building to the bio labs," April said, accessing the second level blueprints in readiness for the boys' arrival.

The turtles and the Fugitoid headed through the doors and down the corridor to the goods lift. It was on their floor, and the doors opened immediately when Mikey pressed the 'up' button. They got in and Mikey pressed the '2' button – and kept his finger on it.

"It won't be any quicker, popcorn-for-brains," Raphael hissed. Mikey merely grinned and jabbed the button repeatedly until Leo slapped his hand off it and gave him a look of warning. Mikey pouted and rubbed his injured hand.

As the doors opened on the second floor, there was no sign of turtles to the naked eye. Raphael was pressed up against the inside of the goods lift door, and Leo and Mikey were supporting the Fugitoid on the very top of the lift – they had crept through the hatch in time, leaving Raph cursing as the lift slowed.

"There's no CCTV in the corridors…" April mused. "That doesn't make any sense…"

Raph signalled the all clear and Mikey jumped through the hatch.

"If Bishop hasn't got any CCTV in the corridors, there's probably a reason," Leo said quietly, lowering the Fugitoid to Mikey's waiting arms.

"Yeah…and not a good one," Don said ominously.

"Thanks for that, O-cheery-one!" Mikey groused, pulling his nunchakus from his belt once more.

"Sorry," said Don sheepishly. There was more crunching.

"Interference or peanuts?" Leo asked, his expression deadpan.

"Peanuts," Don affirmed.

"I'm hungry," whined Mikey, patting his stomach. Leo rolled his eyes.

"Shut up and come on," he said sternly as they entered the corridor.

Leo's eyes scoured the area, as he and his brothers silently crept along the corridor. They followed the right turn as they came upon it and stealthily crept quickly through the area.

Having decided that the Fugitoid's metal limbs were making too much noise on the wooden floor, Raphael had picked him up and unceremoniously thrown him over his shoulder.

"Where are the bio labs, April?" Leo asked.

"Um… You're looking for a room labelled 'B2-102'," April said, scrutinising the building plans.

Within a minute or so, they came upon the so-labelled room. Taking a breath, Leo nodded to the Fugitoid. Once again, he extended his sensor and flicked open the lock on the door.

Leo counted three to his brothers with his fingers and swung the door open, diving back against the wall.

There was no shouting and very little noise. Warm air rushed out to greet them, and they quickly entered the room, shutting the door behind them.

Leo was disgusted as he looked around the room. It was one hundred feet long and full of workbenches. The lighting was low, and there was a continuous hum from the air conditioning in the room. Every workbench was covered in vials, batched in racks of fifty. The vials had different coloured stickers on the top, with whole benches dedicated to each colour.

Leo's face twitched without his notice.

"Suddenly, I'm not hungry anymore…" Mikey moaned, remembering how ill he had been after his last encounter with such vials.

Raph, all instinct and anger, stood forward and picked up a rack of the vials. Every instinct demanded that he smash them, that he destroy them, render them harmless, remove them from all possible contact with his family.

Leo shook his head at his brother urgently.

"Don't touch them Raph! Put it down!"

"I wasn't gonna…" Raph snarled. He took a deep breath, and tried to remember that it wasn't Leo he was angry with before he lost his temper.

"Are you there? Did you find it?" asked Don; his voice was thin with trepidation.

"Yeah…" was Leo's simple answer as Raph put the vials carefully back down where he had found them.

"It's worse than we thought, Don," Leo said, shaking his head.

"Don't take any chances, Leo, _please_. There's a cupboard to your – where is it April?" Don asked urgently and April replied quickly,

"To your left."

"-To your left. It'll have biohazard suits in it Leo, put them on and _don't handle anything _until you have."

Raph looked guilty.

"Okay Donny, we will, don't worry," Leo's voice was soothing.

As they climbed into ill-fitting biohazard suits, Leo could hear the shaking in Don's breathing. It was a reminder of why he was here – in the unlikely event that he needed one.

"Okay, Don, we're all suited and booted," Leo glanced at his brothers and the Fugitoid. The Fugitoid didn't need a biohazard suit, and it was just as well – the suits were designed for humans and the fit was bad enough on the turtles. On the Fugitoid the fit would have been even worse.

"Ooohohoooooooooo! I'm the creature from the Blue Lagoooon!" wailed Mikey, raising his arms and walking unsteadily towards Raph, who batted him out of the way irritatedly.

"Mikey, stop it! Just for once, be serious," Don said tersely. Leo nodded firmly at Mikey without speaking. Don was normally much more easy-going with Mikey's pranks and jokes – but he was frightened and Leo understood why.

There were enough weaponised viruses in the room to eliminate all life across the United States.

"Just…set the incendiaries I gave you and get out of the room," Don said nervously. Leo nodded to confirm Don's instruction and the brothers dug around inside their suits for the two small, round metal objects Don had given them earlier, before they got into the chopper.

"Anywhere, Don?" Leo asked, trying to keep his brother involved, so that there was little to no empty sound over the headsets.

"Just set them at equal points around the room. Once set, you've only got one minute to get out, so make it as quick as you can."

Don's voice was shaking. Leo tried to push his brother's obvious distress to the back of his mind; the quicker and more accurately they could get the job done, the less he would need to worry.

Raph set the final incendiary device and activated it. A small red light flashed, increasing in frequency as the seconds passed.

"Okay, that's it; everybody out! Now!" Leo called, heading for the door and swinging it open.

The brothers and the Fugitoid leapt out of the room and Raph slammed the door behind them. Leo had a sneaking suspicion that, considering Don's concern about the viruses, he'd probably gone for overkill and that it might be a good idea to put as much distance as possible between the room and themselves.

"Run, guys! To the end of the corridor!" Leo shouted. There seemed no point in stealth now; within seconds Bishop would know his site had been infiltrated and in only minutes more, every agent in the building would be gunning for them.

There was a moment of perfect lucidity. Time seemed to slow right down for just a fraction of a second – then, all in a hurry, time returned to it's normal rushing pace and the turtle's immediate world was consumed by the roar of multiple explosions. The incendiary bombs shook the floor beneath them, and a window pane in an office door only ten feet from Mikey shattered, the remnants dropping to the floor like heavy rain.

Instinctively, the boys dived to the floor, and Raph dragged down Professor Honeycutt with them. They heard an almighty bang as the door to bio lab B2-102 blew off it's hinges and fire roared out of the gap, hungry for more oxygen and ravenously consuming all the surrounding air and fuel.

"Get up, get up, get up!" yelled Leo, rising to his feet and rushing towards the lifts again. He considered Mikey to be too slow in his ascent, and so pulled him up by the shell, still running, until he was sure Mikey was on his feet and keeping pace with him and Raph.

Raph was still doing his 'me Tarzan, you Jane' bit with Professor Honeycutt, who was clanking rather loudly as they crossed the distance to the lifts. Leo jabbed the call button repeatedly, but as Raphael had pointed out earlier, it didn't make the lift any faster.

"Forget the lift! April, we need stairs and we need them _now_!" Leo shouted into his headset over the seething, rumbling fire chasing down the corridor after them.

"Uh… There should be a small door, right behind the lift – there's an emergency exit back there…" April said, urgently searching for more detailed information.

"But we're not ready to leave yet!" Raph said angrily.

"You need to go down to the next floor, Raphie – fire rises, but even so you won't have more than an hour's safety unless they put it out! And you can't use the lift in a fire situation!" Don said, concern clear in his voice.

"We won't need more than an hour," said Leo, moving to the front of the group and leading them down the corridor adjacent to the lift. Before long he saw the sign marking the emergency exit, right over a door with a window panel. Leo glanced in and saw the staircase, creeping downwards and without a visible end.

Leo flung back the door and ushered the group through, slamming it shut behind them. Raph led the way down the staircase, turning on a pin as he reached the corner and practically flying down the second flight.

As they burst out of the stairwell onto the first floor, they barrelled straight in to their first pocket of resistance. Four agents, who had been sent up to see what was happening on the second floor stopped immediately on viewing the turtles. Two raised their weapons. One of the two made the mistake of laughing.

When he woke up, he found his whole body hurting and that his last conscious memory was one of a red-masked turtle aiming a very fast kick to his head.

Within moments the four agents were dispatched and the turtles were on their way again.

"Okay, guys… a little help here…" Leo panted, racing blindly down the corridor. "Where next?"

"You need to get to a computer terminal, preferably one that's not locked down. Ideally, you'll go to the server room…" Don said, glancing across at April's monitor.

"Which is on your floor, next to the staff kitchen," April said, a smile tugging her lips.

Don tapped away earnestly at his own keyboard, clawing his way through firewall after firewall, climbing through slowly into the remote backup site. It was a slow process, but every time he was blocked by the firewalls, he opened up two new infiltration points.

"Shoddy work, boys…shoddy work…" Don muttered under his breath.

Leo and the others sped towards the kitchen and server room, following April's detailed instructions. When they got there, Leo knocked on the door of the kitchen. When nobody answered, he indicated for the others to follow.

"We need to get these suits off," Leo said, and Mikey and Raph nodded.

A few moments later, and the turtles were once again green instead of bright yellow. In a pile, on the kitchen floor, were three slightly stretched biohazard suits.

A bright light suddenly cut through the dimness as Leo waited behind the door, his weapons drawn.

"_Mikey_! Get out of the refrigerator!" he hissed angrily.

"But I'm hungry!" Mikey pouted.

"If you don't get outta that fridge, I'm gonna tear out your stomach so you'll never be hungry again!" rasped Raph, his eyes narrowed. Mikey pouted and slammed the refrigerator door.

He joined his brothers grumpily. Leo cast his eyes across the group and said,

"We've had it easy so far. This is where it gets hard. We get in, we get the virus uploaded, we get the Professor back to the Utrom Homeworld, we destroy the transmat, we get out. There are too many agents here to take them all out."

"What about Bishop?" Raph snarled. "We can't just let him walk away!"

"We're _not, _Raph. We're crippling him. He's going to pay for a long time for what he did - just not physically."

Raph clenched his fists angrily.

"I want more than that, Leo… I want him to understand how much… I-"

"I know." Leo said, and their eyes met; Leo's calm and stern, Raph's angry and torrid. Leo nodded his understanding - something that between them only those two _could _understand; the helplessness of not being allowed home while their brothers suffered and weakened, while disease robbed them of their sense and senses, the hopelessness of watching them shrivel and fail, of watching their safehouse disappear in the deluge.

Raphael fell silent, although his eyes still spoke the words his lips never could.

They were interrupted by munching. Leo looked across to Mikey, who had a mouthful of Cheesy Ripper, the rest of the cheesy strings in his hand.

"Mikey…you have _no _idea where that's been…" Leo pulled a face.

"Well, by the looks of it…" Professor Honeycutt began, and Mikey turned a slightly deeper shade of green as the Professor went into great detail on the ingredients and processes used to produce such junk food. Leo allowed himself a momentary smile, and then his face set.

"Come on guys. Remember, this building is currently burning to the ground. Sure, they'll probably manage to get the fire out, but we still don't have much time."

The others nodded and got into place behind the door. Raph had become so accustomed on this journey to carrying the Professor that he immediately lifted him into the air and threw him over his shoulder again.

"Oof!" exclaimed the Professor.

"Sorry about that," Raph said, in light-hearted apology.

"That's…quite all right, I'm sure," replied the Fugitoid nervously.

On Leo's count of three, the group burst out into the corridor. Leo was right; the easy part of their task was done. Before them stood tens of agents, each with advanced looking weapons.

The boys didn't waste a second. They needed to make it only ten yards up the corridor to the server room, and within moments they were fighting their way through the hordes, mostly in control but backing each other up when they weren't.

Still only freshly recovered from illness, Mikey's senses and reactions were not quite as sharp as they normally were, and he found himself point blank at the end of an advanced weapon – not unlike the ones Raph and Leo had faced in the sewer tunnels.

He had only a fraction of a moment to react – and suddenly found that he didn't need to, as Raphael rammed his sai into the arm of the would-be attacker, raising a scream that would wake the dead. Furious and blind with the blood beating behind his eyes, Raph twisted the sai and pulled it free after dragging the weapon out of the limp hand. He'd severed tendons in the would-be attacker's arm, but he didn't really care.

And so history repeated – only this time Raph was protecting Mikey and not Leo.

"Keep your wits about you, bonehead!" Raph yelled.

"I love you too, bro!" Mikey called as they drew close to the server room door.

Leo was the first to reach it, turning for a second and slamming his hand down on the handle.

It was locked.

Stars burst behind Leo's eyes all of a sudden, and he felt his legs go weak. A blinding pain seared through his skull, and suddenly it was all he could do to stand up. Out of the corner of his blurred vision, he saw Raphael draw up alongside him, dispatching two more agents before turning to Leo. Leo registered the fear in his brother's eyes as blood spattered onto the hand he still had pressed against the handle of the door.

Raph dragged the Fugitoid off his shoulder and shoved him up against the server room door.

"Open it!" he snapped, putting himself between Leo and the ever oncoming agents.

Mikey glanced across at Leo and saw scarlet spilling down his face, turning his mask purple. It was all that was needed to drop his heart into his feet – but it also solidified his intent. Turning to the agents, he snarled and dived forward, taking out three in one go and giving a fourth a run for his money with the same blow.

The Fugitoid wasted no time in doing as Raph instructed and the door swung open. Raph grabbed Leo, leaving the Fugitoid to make his own way and shouted,

"Mikey! Get over here!"

His anger still unspent, Mikey blinded one agent and landed a palm thrust into the throat of a second, before lifting the Fugitoid beneath the arms, practically flinging him into the room, and slamming the door shut behind them.

"They…the way they bleed makes….makes it look worse than it is… Scalp wounds…" Leo was saying to Raph, as his brother stood protectively over him like a wolf with a wounded cub. Raph slapped Leo's probing hand out of the way as he continued to hold a wad of paper tissues to the wound on Leo's crown. The rest of the tissues were strewn across the floor, and the box had dropped off the desk which had been its home.

"Shut up and sit still," growled Raph, still pressing firmly with the tissues.

"What's going on!?" Don's plaintive voice railed across the headsets.

"Leo nearly went and got his skull cracked," Mikey frowned as the Fugitoid relocked the door. Mikey was pressed against it, trying to hold back the agents as they pounded on the steel door.

"Not cracked…just a little bit bruised," Leo protested, before Raph said,

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?"

"Tell Donny I broke his headset," Leo realised suddenly. Mikey relayed the message.

"Oh, _please_ – I couldn't care less right now," Don tutted, concern clear in his voice. "Give him yours, Mike."

Quietly grumbling, Mikey passed his headset to Leo, who shook his head to clear it. He was sure he felt his eyes rattle in their sockets as he did so. He put the headset gingerly over his ears, tightening the head band further back on his head than usual.

"Sorry, Donny… That's two sets I've broken in a week," Leo said apologetically.

"It's fine, Leo, don't worry. I've got spares; it's all good." Even through his concussion, Leo could clearly hear the worry in Don's voice – and it filled his eyes with tears.

"I don't get it…" he sniffed. "I'm not sad…so why am I crying…?"

"You're concussed, Leo. Your brain will do stuff without you for a bit…" Don tried to sound reassuring, but the worry was still evident.

Raph finally took his hand off the wad of tissues and pulled Leo's hand up and placed it over it instead.

_This is crazy…_

_Leo's concussed – we can't do this without Leo. That was a nasty pistol-whipping he got. And we can't leave him here…_

_Shit… _

Don was still speaking gently with Leo and getting him to conduct little tests, so that he could at least make some judgement on how bad it was.

Raphael turned to the Fugitoid.

"Can you at least upload that virus, Professor? April, can you get us out of this room? Are there any exits that aren't likely to be crawling with Bishop's scumbags?"

Professor Honeycutt nodded and went to work at the terminal PC, accessing Don's virus from within and carefully - while shielding himself with his strongest firewalls - started the upload.

"I'm checking Raph, but it's not looking good. It's a reinforced door though - that should buy you some time…"

Leo got shakily to his feet.

"Sit down!" snapped Raph. Leo shook his head, and once again squeezed his eyes shut as the world moved without him.

"No… I've got to get moving, got to keep going. You can't leave me here, and we can't just give ourselves up. We get the virus going, we send home the Professor, and we destroy the transmat. We're halfway there; I'm not giving up because I was stupid enough to get hit on the head." He sniffed as he paced backwards and forwards, his legs shaky, trying through sheer willpower to regain his full composure.

April glanced across at Don with a worried look on her face.

Whatever look was on her face, it could not contend with the look on Don's. His fingers tapped the desk nervously, and his legs were a-tremble; April knew that he wanted nothing more than to be with his brothers at that moment, to share in their trial and be part of the answer. As it was, he was stuck here, in the lair, a thousand miles away.

If time and space and distance could have been breached by the way Don was staring at his PC screen and biting his fingers, all three frontiers would have been shattered.

Putting her hand over the microphone at her chin, she said, gently,

"They'll be okay."

The glancing look Don passed her out of the corner of his eye assured April that he was even more worried than she had thought.

After a few minutes longer, with the door sounding like it might come down at any moment and fill the room with agents brandishing weapons and licenses to kill, the Fugitoid said,

"There! The upload is finished!"

"So is this door!" exclaimed Mikey, pressing his shell against it as hard as he could, his body juddering more and more with every strike the agents made against it.

Suddenly, the crashing and banging stopped.

"Turtles!" the voice silenced everyone inside the server room. Leo heard Don whisper, darkly,

"_Bishop_."

"So you're still alive. I'm impressed! I hear you're missing Donatello though – such a shame…" Bishop's voice drifted through the door. There were sniggers, and Raph snarled, but Leo grabbed his arm, biting down on his own response.

"Let him take us," he whispered suddenly.

"_What_?" asked Raph and Don, disbelieving their own ears.

"Just how hard did you get hit, Leo?" Mikey asked, an expression of horror on his face.

"It's the only way we can get out of this room alive! He's too curious to kill us yet!" Leo explained quietly. Raph looked away, his feelings plain – but it was also clear that he had no further ideas of his own.

The Fugitoid looked nervously between the brothers, tapping his metal fingertips together.

"Oh dear," he said, worriedly.

* * *

__

Thank you all for reading! :) Sadly, this is the penultimate chapter of 'Vile Vial' – she'll be all wrapped up next week. Please join me for the last instalment in around seven days!:)


	10. Chapter 10

_**Vile Vial**_

_**Disclaimer: **__**TMNT was created by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird. TMNT belongs to Mirage Studios. I am not making any money from this fic.**_

_Author's Note: Thank you all for coming back to read this, the last chapter of 'Vile Vial'. Hopefully, the ending won't fall short of your expectations! xx_

_**Glossary**_

_Saya – sheath_

_**

* * *

**_

Chapter Ten

"This is all my fault…" Don said, pacing before the computer desk. "I should have just…let it go, they didn't have to upload a virus, it was just me and my stupid notion of revenge…"

April watched, concerned as the pale turtle walked up and down the room, his breathing shallow as he tried to control his ever increasing panic, tried to stop the floodgates from opening.

"Donatello, it's _not_ your fault. The plans for the transmat and the virus data had to be wiped out – sure, revenge might have been in your plans too, but it wasn't the whole of it and it certainly wasn't the main reason you created that virus," April said. She too was concerned but she already knew what it felt like to be watching on the outside, hands tied.

Don cast pained eyes to his friend as she sat in the chair before him.

"If my brothers don't come back, it's _my fault_," he stated, and he let his arms fall to his sides; helpless, unprotected. April recognised the mark left on his face by the grasping claws of despair as she matched his eyes.

"They've come back from worse. You've _all_ come back from worse.

"Like Leo said – Bishop's too curious right now to kill them. They've got time to think of a plan."

"But now that they're out of contact, I-"

"We're just going to have to be patient, Don. This far away, it's not as if we can just rush in there."

Don turned from his friend, rubbing his face.

Suddenly, his expression set, and he sat back down in the chair before his PC. A smile crept across his face.

"What an idiot…" he muttered, tapping at his keyboard and laughing to himself. April's face creased again in concern. Had the stress finally got to him so badly?

"Don, what are you-"

"Back door," Don interrupted, typing like a madman.

"Excuse me?" April asked, surprised.

"I programmed a back door into the virus – I'm such an idiot, I forgot all about it…" he said, the keen brightness of his eyes back from the depths. Don's grin suddenly spread to his friend as she began to comprehend what that might mean.

"You mean you can – "

"I can control pretty much everything computer controlled on the site…" Don said excitedly, "Anything that's routed through the network? It's _mine_."

* * *

"So… You somehow survived my virus," Bishop said, prowling between the three turtles as they lay strapped onto operating tables. He put a hand on his chin and rubbed it thoughtfully.

"Still…one out of four isn't a total loss."

"You'd love that, wouldn't you?" snarled Leo. The world was still moving at strange angles whenever he turned his head – but it was less of an issue now as it was one of the parts of him strapped down.

"I'd love it more if I'd got all of you," Bishop smiled coldly. Leo let Bishop revel in his false victory for a moment, before taking his turn to smile.

"You didn't get _any_ of us with your virus," he said, his expression grimly triumphant.

"Then where, Leonardo, is Donatello?" Bishop grated, a snarl twisting his lips.

"Home and safe – and away from _you,_" Leo grinned savagely. Bishop stood back and scrutinised Leo's expression.

"You're lying."

"My father taught me that lying is dishonourable." Leo smirked.

"Besides, Leo? He's such a bad liar!" Mikey exclaimed, swallowing the nervousness in his voice.

Bishop stepped back into the protection afforded to him by the darkness at the edges of the room, his expression hidden.

"It was the Fugitoid, wasn't it?" Bishop said coldly, after a moment.

"_What _was the Fugitoid?" asked Raph tetchily, continually tugging at his bonds.

"Don't play me for a fool, Raphael. It was the Fugitoid who helped you – after you took him from my base at the Pentagon," Bishop snarled.

"We have no idea what you're talking about," Leo said, his response metered. "What do you want him for? It's not like he has the transmat plans any longer," Leo asked, playing dumb.

Bishop paused.

"The Fugitoid is the key to many of the cures for viruses I've been collecting. Your virus was only one of many.

"But you know that, don't you?" he asked eventually.

"What were you thinking, Bishop? Your viruses could bring about the end of the world!" Leo exclaimed, tugging now at his own bonds.

A smile appeared in the half-light.

"Not _our_ world. Our world would suddenly be able to negotiate any help, provide any cure – for a price. Can you imagine? The Earth, at the top of the intergalactic food chain…" There was a brief, throaty laugh from the darkness.

"Where is Professor Honeycutt?" Leo asked urgently. The white-grey smile bobbed up and down in the darkness like that of the Cheshire Cat.

"Somewhere safe," came the eventual reply.

Before any of the turtles had a chance to speak further, an agent of Bishop's raced into the room. His face was sooty and red, and his breathing was thin.

"Sir! Room B2-102 has been completely destroyed!"

Bishop was too good a poker player to let his feelings about that show on his face when he came into the light – but his voice became tighter, and a little higher.

"Are you certain?" he asked, after a pause. The operative nodded nervously.

"So what was the plan, Bishop?" asked Leo from his operating table. "Transmat the viruses into other planets and wipe out the inhabitants?"

"It was a necessary deed to keep the inhabitants of Earth safe. Now, after the events of the last year or so, _everybody_ knows we're not alone. And we won't be safe until we are."

"So mass xenocide was the way forward? Kill everything in your path because it was for the 'greater good'?" Leo spat angrily. Bishop grinned again.

"I have some business to attend to. But be assured, Turtles, that I have some further business with _you_. I want to know exactly how you survived the virus before I set a few others loose on you."

"You're bluffing!" exclaimed Mikey. "We just blew up your virus stash!"

This time, Bishop did pale.

"We know what was in room B2-102, Bishop, and we destroyed it. For the 'greater good'," Leo said, a triumphant smile on his face. Bishop took a deep breath, growled it out and swept out of the room, the operative following closely behind.

The turtles paused, glancing at each other from within their bonds.

"Now what?" Mikey asked, tugging fruitlessly at the straps holding him to the table.

Suddenly, Leo and Mikey heard a snapping sound and craned their necks to see Raphael tugging at his own straps with a free hand. His palm was bleeding, and Leo saw the glint of metal between his fingers.

"Shuriken?" he asked, as Raph cut through another tight leather bond.

"You'd be amazed where you can hide these things when you have to," Raph said, a slightly pained grin on his face as he cut through the last strap and leapt free of the table.

He made light work of his brothers' bonds and together the three of them stood in the centre of the room, under the spotlight which left the rest of the surgical theatre in shadow.

"We need to find our weapons." Leo said, turning a little too quickly. He swore under his breath as sickness rose in his stomach. He looked up and saw both Raph and Mikey gazing at him in concern. He gave them what he hoped was a reassuring smile and pelted off to the far side of the room, opening drawers and cupboards, hoping to find what had been taken from them.

They had been left with nothing but their masks, and Leo set his brothers to the same task.

"C'mon, we don't have much time! Bishop could be back at any moment and I don't want to face him without weapons!" Leo said, remembering all too well their first encounter with Bishop - and the fact that he had beaten them easily. They had progressed in their training since then, but Leo still didn't want to have to fight Bishop in his current state. There was also the all-pervading worry that without his guidance, his two brothers would find themselves captured and tortured at Bishop's hands, and quite frankly, his family had suffered enough at Bishop's whim.

"Here!" shouted Raph suddenly, and dragged their weapons, belts and protective gear out of a tall storage cupboard. Leo and Mikey were at his side in a second, claiming what was theirs and putting the items back where they belonged.

Leo put on Mikey's headset and Raph put his own back on. Leo dialled in to Don's shell cell number. His brother answered nervously.

"Hello?"

"Don, can you hear me?" Leo asked.

"Oh, thank God…" Don said weakly. "You know, you guys are never allowed to leave me behind again. Do you realise how bad high blood pressure is for my kidneys?"

"Good to hear from you too, Don," Leo grinned. "Now, we need to find the Professor before we can get to the transmat," he continued, concern in his voice. It was a big complex, and it was probably going to take more time than they had to check every room for the Professor. They couldn't simply leave him there, he'd done so much for them-

"He's in holding room A12 – two corridors over from Surgical Room 3, where you are," Don suddenly said.

"What? How do you-" Leo began, but he could hear the grin in Don's voice as he interrupted him,

"Smile and wave for the camera, boys."

Raph and Leo glanced around, spotting two CCTV cameras in opposite corners of the room.

"Better still, I've run a loop on the stream, so all Bishop can see if he checks the CCTV is you three strapped to tables," Don explained. Leo grinned and shook his head.

"If I ever doubt your genius Don, you can use this moment to remind me how wrong I am."

"Whaaaat? What's going on?" complained Mikey, feeling left out now that he didn't have his own headset.

"Donny's gotten into video editing," Raph said, gesturing to the cameras.

"And I can still see the original feed – stop with the rude signs, Raph," Don grinned. Mikey waved cheerily to the cameras.

"Tell Mikey I said hi," Don said in response, rolling his eyes fondly at his brother's action.

"Okay, guys, back to business," Leo said suddenly, as he moved over to the door. As he'd expected, it was locked.

"Damn. It's locked; we're going to have to try to pick it."

"Is it an electronic lock?" Don asked, tapping at his keyboard.

"How do I tell?" asked Leo, examining the lock carefully.

"If it's electronic, there won't be a keyhole. It might have a slot for a card, or some sort of small, black panel for a magnetic card strip, or a biometric reader – which will be harder to crack…" Don explained. Leo examined the lock and said, quickly,

"There's a slot for a card."

"_That's_ what I was hoping you'd say," said Don, and Leo heard tapping on the end of the line. There was an understated click, and a green light flashed on the card reader.

"Guys, we're out of here," Leo said, his palm pushing down on the handle. He opened the door just a crack – but Bishop was so proud, and so convinced by his electronic locks and his leather bindings, and was so distracted by the reported devastation of room B2-102, that he hadn't even bothered to station a guard outside. Leo indicated that it was safe, and slipped out into the corridor, closely followed by his two brothers.

"How did you get into the CCTV and security systems, Don?" Leo asked as they followed instructions relayed by April on how to get to room A12.

"I built a protocol into the virus that enabled me to communicate directly with the server," Don said. Admittedly, part of what he said was lost on Leo, but he happily accepted that Don had done exceptionally well to get in and control what was, essentially, a government network.

* * *

Bishop looked darkly over the devastation. Half of the second floor of the west wing was charred and blackened. He gingerly made his way over to his agents, who were swarming all across the area, wrapped head to foot in biohazard suits.

"Sir! You shouldn't be here without a biosuit! It could still be dangero-"

"The fire will have destroyed the viruses, you idiot," Bishop snarled, and pushed past. He walked purposefully towards the remains of room B2-102. He knew already that there was no hope of anything having survived; the rubber on his boots was melting on the still hot remains of the floorboards, but it did not stop him as he marched ever onwards towards the focus of his attention.

He stopped in the doorway. There was a huge hole in the floor, and the skeletal remains of several wooden workbenches were all that remained around it. There were some plastic fittings which remained around the room, but they were melted and deformed, scattered with holes and black soot. He made the mistake of putting his hand on the door frame and removed it immediately, yelling in pain.

The agents nearby subtly put as much distance as they could between themselves and their leader as he screamed,

"Damn you, Turtles!" With that, he swept from the area, his eyes burning with a heat as intense as the fire which had destroyed the ill-fated room B2-102.

* * *

The Fugitoid was tied to the bed in his cell. He was desperately worried about his friends; he knew from bitter experience that Bishop was a man with no ethics and few principles.

He'd tried to unlock his door in the same manner as he had the other locks in the building, but to no avail. His multi-function interface just wasn't long enough.

Suddenly, he heard a voice he recognised outside the door, and his metal heart leapt.

"Don, it's got the same type of lock as before."

Seconds passed, and there was a gentle click. He clicked his metal fingers in anticipation. The door swung open, and three turtles stood in the doorway, one still seeming rather pale. Leo frowned at the Professor's bonds at first, but Mikey moved into the room to untie him and after a moment, Leo smiled,

"Come on Professor. Time to get you home."

* * *

Bishop stalked into his office, slamming the door behind him. He walked over to his desk and sat down, tapping his mouse. The monitor flickered to life and Bishop clicked an icon on the desktop. He typed quickly on the keyboard and an image appeared on screen, of a surgical theatre with three turtles bound tightly to operating tables. Bishops eyes narrowed.

"I will make you pay for this, Turtles. I'm going to make your brother Donatello an only child."

He closed the window with a click of the mouse and moved to open a new program, via an icon entitled 'TESTAMENT'.

The screen went blank for a moment. At first, Bishop was unconcerned, until suddenly the Operating System command window opened and green text began to write itself all across the screen.

Bishop's eyes widened as the text continued down the screen, never stopping, never faltering, always soldiering on and on across his monitor.

"PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED PWNED…"

A small, animated turtle laughed repeatedly in the bottom right corner of the screen.

Bishop didn't recognise his own voice as he screamed with unadulterated fury.

* * *

"Yes…" said the Fugitoid sadly. "This is the place." The four turtles had knocked out the two guards on the door, and a small number who had tried to intercept them while they were following April's directions to the Transmat room on the fifth floor.

"You've been here before, Professor?" asked Leo, surprised.

"Hm? Oh, yes. There is only the one Transmat I believe – I was _shipped_ to their site in…erm…"

"Virginia," provided Leo. The Professor nodded,

"Yes, that's it."

Leo was distracted by a crackling over his headset.

"Interference or peanuts?" he asked Don, an irritated frown on his face. The answer did not lift the frown.

"In..feren…e…" his brother replied, and Leo's heart sank.

"I preferred it when it was peanuts," he admitted solemnly. Raph pulled his own headset from his ears as it squealed.

"…e t…" came the interrupted reply from Don, whose voice seemed to have become a little like Professor Honeycutt's.

"I th… you…araday…age…" Don's voice stuttered and Leo shook his head.

"I'm not getting you, Don…"

"Far...a…day…ca…e…" Don replied, and this time Leo could hear him annunciating every syllable.

"Faraday cage?" asked Raph, and was rewarded by another squeal. This time even Leo removed the headset from his ears.

"Great. A Faraday Cage means no radio signals in or out…" Raph shook his head. Mikey looked confused.

"So, how can the transmat work?"

"The transmat works on elementary particles, Michelangelo – not electromagnetic waves." The Fugitoid provided.

"Oh. Okay…" Mikey said, still looking utterly baffled. Leo didn't look much less confused, but he had at least grasped the principle that the transmat worked but the cell phones didn't.

"So we have to do this without you, Donny?"

"W…I c…ear…ou…" came Don's reply, confirming Leo's fear. He shook his head and hung the headset around his neck instead.

"Okay, guys, we have to do this without Donny and April," Leo said, and suddenly his arms and shoulders prickled with trepidation. He had much preferred it when they had Donny and April to back them up – they would only be able to hold on to the help of the Fugitoid for the next few minutes.

"Okay, Professor – let's get you home," Leo said, and the Professor needed no more prompting. They all walked quickly over to the transmat and it's control panel. Raph smacked Mikey lightly across the head and told him to go and stand guard by the door. The little brother grumbled angrily, rubbing his head, and made his way over to the heavy steel door.

The Fugitoid tapped away at the control panel, entering co-ordinates and activating the warm-up mechanism.

"It might be a minute or so before it's ready," the Fugitoid said nervously as he continued to type, finally pressing the 'Enter' key.

Simultaneously, there was a crashing sound on the other side of the room. Leo and Raph readied their weapons in a second and spun around.

Mikey had been thrown down to the ground by Bishop's explosive entry, and he was followed by at least twelve agents.

"Step away from the controls, Fugitoid." Bishop's eyes were narrow as he pointed at the metal man. Leo moved to stand in front of him, as did Raph, while Mikey pulled himself to his feet. The movement caught Bishop's eye and, with speed any ninja would be proud of, he grabbed Mikey by the throat, and in seconds one of the turtle's own tanto knives was pressed to the pulse that beat life blood through his body.

"I _said_ step away from the controls," Bishop said, and pushed the knife tighter, expelling even the air between the turtle's skin and the knife blade.

Leo paused, frozen, thinking on his feet, but before he could even register what was happening, he saw Raphael's expression darken. He shivered – he could feel the heat of Raph's hatred from where he stood beside him. Leo moved to speak directly to Bishop, desperate to end the Mexican standoff but before he could, Raph's deep, angry voice broke the momentary silence.

"Get the Professor out of here, Leo."

Mikey's eyes fell to meet Raph's; the turtle was pulled to his tiptoes, afraid even to swallow in case he felt the tanto bite into his skin.

"You've destroyed my work, turtles. Well done. Mostly I've been content to let you carry on existing, but it's time for that to stop."

"I'm coming, Mikey," Raph's words were directed exactly to his brother, his eyes on his.

"Raph-" began Leo, but his words were engulfed in Raph's bellow of,

"I said get the Professor out of here! Bishop's _mine_!"

And as Raphael began his run towards the Government agent, his mind filled with images of the past weeks, interspersed with the image of his little brother being held hostage –

Donny, on his deathbed, the rattle of his breathing still echoing in Raph's ears –

Mikey in agony, unable to see, only to speak –

The look on Leo's face as he, Raphael, had dared to suggest that he didn't care about their dying brothers –

And Michelangelo, his eyes meeting Raph's own, telling the story of his fear as he was held in Bishop's tight grip –

And as Raph approached, he watched the tanto move in Bishop's grasp, he watched Mikey pull just a fraction away from the tanto, saw Bishop raise his hand to grab Mikey's mask tails and the intent in the grimace on his face as he expected to make the strike that would kill him –

And Raph felt his own arm raise instinctively, felt fire in his chest and his eyes, felt his fury burning through every inch of his body as he pushed it to its limit –

And no more than half a second passed between Mikey slipping out of Bishop's grasp and Raph striking the black-coated man with his full-force, knocking the tanto out of his hand with one sai and aiming at Bishop's eye with the second.

The man stumbled backwards out of the doorway carrying a one hundred and eighty pound turtle on his chest and impacted with the ground hard, forcing the air from his lungs. When he opened his eyes, wheezing, he had only one lens in his dark glasses. Raphael bounced to his feet, looked at Leo from the far side of the doorway and slammed the heavy steel door shut.

Leo's heart filled with fear. He reached out to Mikey, who moved towards him, shaken and without instruction, even as the Professor leapt up to stand on the transmat.

"It's ready! Quickly, press the green button - send me on and destroy the transmat!"

The air was suddenly rent with the sound of gunfire on the other side of the door and Leo vacantly registered the whimper that came from Mikey. He wasn't sure if he himself made a noise or not, but he turned to the transmat controls and slammed his fist onto the flashing green button.

The transmat started to hum, and Leo quickly shouted,

"Thank you Professor!" Professor Honeycutt had barely enough time to wave goodbye before his body started to break down and disappear into the bright blue light, heading quickly through a small hole in the ceiling.

Even before the Professor had finished dissipating, Leo was sprinting towards the door, desperate to see what was going on outside. His thoughts were with Raphael as he stood behind the door and swung it back, pulling Mikey alongside him in case there were operatives waiting for them – and there were. Leo readied his katana and leaped out from behind the door, to find Raph barely conscious on the floor and Bishop standing above him with a loaded weapon. Raph was bleeding from a headwound and several very deep leg wounds – none of which appeared, luckily, to have severed his femoral artery. Bishop seemed to have fared equally as badly; his arm was torn from the elbow to the wrist, and he streamed blood onto the floor by the delirious turtle on the ground.

Flashes of a similar situation in reverse stung Leo's mind, and, swords at the ready, he leapt forward with an almighty roar. Mikey followed suit, leaping past Leo and starting on the few agents who remained standing. Raph's rage had done a lot of the work for them, but there was still danger, still a threat to their unity.

"Not my family! _Never my family_!" Leo screamed, slashing at Bishop's weapon and slicing it in half, even as he drove him back. The Government agent stood weakly, standing before Leo crookedly as a puddle of blood gathered beneath his black coat. The man held up a hand, panting as Leo bore forward towards him.

"Stop…" he said, his voice weak.

"_Stop_? Would you have stopped for Raphael? Would you have stopped for all those people and aliens you would have killed with your viruses? Did you stop, when you infected my two brothers with the _filth_ in room B2-102?" Leo spat. He raised his katana, and Bishop raised his arm once again in defence, expecting at any moment to feel the steel bite into his skin, carve through the bones in his arm and chest…

Leo breathed heavily, his own chest heaving – and lowered his swords.

"You're not worth the bad karma. You're _defeated_ Bishop. We've put you out of action for months – maybe years. Maybe, just _maybe_, next time you'll think twice before going Turtle hunting," Leo's voice was deep and low.

The wounded agent dropped to his knees and fell backwards against the hard steel of the door, his eyes staring, his heart smashing against his ribs. Leo immediately turned his attention to Raphael. Mikey was sitting beside him, propping him up.

"Did I get 'im?" Raph said restlessly, "Did…Did I get 'im?"

"Yeah, Raphie – you got 'im good," soothed Mikey, as he and Leo helped Raph to his feet.

Leo picked up one of the alien tech guns strewn around the doorway, and indicated that Mikey should do the same. Mikey did as he was asked, and in fact picked up two. He knew what Leo had in mind.

"Here, take this, Raphie – it'll make you feel better," Mikey said as they headed back into the transmat room.

Raph was shaky on his feet, but he could stand on his own. He was able to hold the weapon Mikey had given him, and he also knew what to do with it.

Leo opened fire on the transmat, closely followed by his two accompanying brothers. After ten seconds of dedicated fire, Leo stopped shooting and lifted his hand so that his brothers did the same. Mikey stopped immediately, but Raph kept firing until all the charge was gone from his weapon.

Leo didn't have the heart to stop him.

As the smoke cleared, the smouldering remains of the transmat emerged, shattered, before them. The metal was twisted and buckled, printed circuit boards spread all across the room.

"It's just as well Donny's not here. Seeing this would probably make our favourite geek cry," Mikey said, tossing his weapon to the floor. Raph threw his gun down, turned shakily to Bishop, who was still sitting in the doorway and said,

"Fix _that_, Bishop."

"C'mon," Leo said, putting one arm under Raph's and supporting him at the shoulder. Raph resisted at first, but when Mikey took the other arm there wasn't much more he could do.

Leo tugged on his headset again and as they walked further out into the corridor. On leaving the room, he was immediately subjected to:

"Look, can you guys hear me? Please answer me… Is Raph all right? I was looking at the cameras, and I could see everything but I couldn't communicate with you, and I –"

"We're okay, Don. It's okay," Leo said. He was tired, but they were safe and victory was theirs. That was all that mattered.

"We're coming home."

* * *

Don heard them approaching from where he stood in the tunnel bordering on their sewer home. He'd been on tenterhooks for hours. Three times April had come to fetch him in from the chill and three times he'd refused.

He was waiting to be reunited with his brothers.

Nothing and nobody was going to distract him from that.

"Did you see Bishop's face when we finally trashed his transmat though?" Mikey. Excited.

"_Yes_, Mikey. We _were_ there, you know." Leo. Tired.

"Let's hope we won't hear any more from him in a long, long time. I'm beat." Raph. Quietly triumphant.

"Guys!" Don exclaimed, leaping out into the tunnel proper and racing through sewer water, his feet splashing. All three looked up as Don ran towards them. Leo immediately drew his katana.

"Donny! What is it?" he asked, ready for a fight if one were needed. Don looked surprised.

"No, it's nothing like that," he said, shaking his head. A gentle laugh was in his voice, and as Leo relaxed slightly, Don threw himself at him, wrapping his arms around his brother's neck tightly.

Leo looked confused as he carefully returned his katana to the saya on his back.

"Thank you for coming home safely to me," Don whispered, and Leo's expression softened immediately. He drew his arms up and wrapped them back around his brother and smiled.

"All of you," Don said, and reached out his arms to Mikey and Raph, too, as they stood, bewildered, behind Leo. Mikey was the first to step forward and be accepted into their group hug and Raph, though reticent, followed suit.

"It's good to be home," Leo said, closing his eyes – happy beyond measure at the touch of his brothers. Raph nodded and Mikey said,

"So, what's for dinner? I'm starving!" Raph broke free and slapped the turtle upside the head and Don looked down. His expression changed immediately.

"Raph! Don't tell me you've been traipsing through the sewers with your legs bandaged that badly!" he pointed accusingly to Leo's hasty first aid. Leo had the grace to look away, ashamed and Raph growled a little as he turned Don towards the entrance of their home.

"You know, you get more like Leo every day, Donny."

"How's your head, Leo?" asked Don, immediately reminded.

"Yeah, it's a little sore…" Leo chuckled shamefacedly, rubbing his head gently.

* * *

Weeks passed, and with every day Don's health improved until there was no physical sign of the illness that had brought him so close to death. The turtle brothers settled into their normal routine easily, and in the same way the body heals from wounds, their mental scars began to heal also.

Despite now being in good health, Don still needed to work on his ninja skills after being a month out of practice. Leo had happily volunteered to help and that morning the lair was filled with the sound of steel on wood as they sparred together.

Raph looked up from where he was tinkering with his Shell Cycle as Mikey burst into the lair, carrying an odd shaped box.

"Look! Look what I found!" he exclaimed, immediately heading for where Leo and Don were sparring and stepping between them. He trusted them enough to know that they would stop immediately.

"Mikey! We're _busy_ – what is it?" Leo asked, exasperated.

"Look! I found it in one of the sewer tunnels off of Eastman and Laird!" Mikey said, seeming very pleased with his new find. Don paled, and as Mikey made to open the lid, his hand snapped out and held the cover of the box shut.

"You know, Mikey… Not to upset you or anything, but do you remember the last time you brought home something you found in the sewers?" he asked, slightly nervous. Leo's eyes flicked between the box and the faces of his brothers.

"No, this isn't anything like that!" Mikey said, waving away his brother's concerns and tapping his hand to get it off the box lid. Don did so carefully, and cringed as Mikey took the lid off the box. Leo pulled Don away from the box slightly as the lid slowly raised…

On a small, black model car, with a Silver Sentry logo on the side.

"I had no idea they still made these!" Mikey crowed, taking it out of the box and running it along his palm happily. All three remaining brothers breathed sighs of relief.

"Mikey, next time you find something in the sewers, I don't want to know. Whatever it is, I just _don't_ want to know," Don said, shaking his head and looking at Leo, who nodded sympathetically. They moved away from where their brother sat on the floor, ecstatic with his find.

"What if it's a transmat?" Mikey said sneakily. Don laughed as he readied himself for Leo's next move and said,

"You might have trouble getting that home, but sure, I might be interested!"

Don nodded to show that he was ready and Leo dived for him. They continued their training well into the early afternoon, as Mikey happily investigated his new collector's item and Raph contentedly polished his Shell Cycle.

FINI

* * *

_And so, it is with a gentle bow that I leave you, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for reading to the end – I hope you enjoyed reading Vivi as much as I enjoyed writing her! I have another multi-parter planned, although it'll be a while before it's done. Please bear with me; I'll get it online as soon as I can._

_Once again, many thanks for reading!:)_


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